Page 159 - Eggs and Ashes pages

158 Eggs and Ashes

It was a task
undertaken with utter seriousness
and with laughter,
and infectious joy.
Wash his feet?
Soap him up to the knees more like!
Cup and splash the water over his ankles,
and tickle him under his toes.
Bathtime had nothing on this!

Leonard had bubbles dancing in all directions
and lather running back
down his arms
into his turned-up sleeves.
And he followed up the washing
with a thorough
drying,
with fluffy towels.
All the way down
from the knees to the toes.

Later came shared bread rolls,
previously kneaded by small fists
and baked in the oven,
and a common mug of juice
that had been trampled and squeezed
from purple grapes.

When I sit sometimes
in other gatherings –
where it is hard to
find volunteers
on a Maundy Thursday
to have one foot
gently washed and dried
by a kneeling priest –
I recall,
with yearning,