Drops of Color
The table set
— a lasting Supper…
that IS what Thanksgiving has come
to be—for me.
Is this a poem? Lean In…
I often pause, held in the image of the
Beloved Disciple, Apostle of Apostles,
leaning in to the One about to break bread,
share from the same cup, a sip of wine,
and then pausing, pausing long enough
to ‘still’ the table and each gatherer.
Room made to wash the feet
of every person in the space…leaning in.
I lean in…in Thanksgiving
to each of you reading these words,
who sometimes scroll down to see
the photo first, or take in the art work.
I lean in…like the one in Michelangelo’s Last Supper
listening to the lasting heart beat.
She held his silent actions,
breathed in his every word.
Wait? Do you think I made a typo
by referencing the One beside
Jesus as she?
She, it is, I exclaim, leaned in.
Why? Because it is what I hold
and lean ‘in’to.
An institution painted her to be
an adulterous woman yet, it was she who
remained at the foot of the cross,
it was she who announced,
“He” is Risen—it is she who leaned In
trusting as I do these words.
Today, as you sit at table,
I’m leaning in, held in gratitude
Each of us serves what we have been
called to create.
Take and offer your abundance.
Lean in to the life you have been given.
Share the fruits of plenty dangling
from the vine of your Divine Soul.
Together, let us create more space
welcoming everyone to dine.
Yes, even scraps are plentiful.
Today is a Feast, a feast of Thanks.
there’s room at the table.