Although Easter has now officially ended, the events of Holy Week don't simply resonate in one week of the year. This is the first of three poems I wrote over Easter this year (watch out for parts II and III), inspired in part by the sermons given by Revd. Mark Laynesmith at Heslington Church over the Easter weekend, finding, as Herbert would say, "God in ordinairy".
Maundy Thursday
Stripy mugs. Old photos. Under-stuffed chairs.
Jokes about cornflakes and Sainsbury’s Gold Blend -
Unlooked-for in this unlovely day,
A cup of coffee from an unknown friend.
Nothing explained. Not the uncleaned sink,
the half-eaten pasta, the ten missed calls,
the running that only made your tendon hurt,
the egg you smashed against the kitchen wall,
the night in
and encompassed by the love you can’t defeat
that still offers toward you the bread and the wine
and bids you to come, and sit, and eat.
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