Thoughts Have Hands

A table filled with fresh baked goods

                   and abundant fruit

                               from head to foot,

Inviting the living:

              the poor, the wealthy, 

                         the eager, the mad, 

                             the frightened and lonely.

An open table:

           set for the willing

                            to discern eye to eye, 

          in the clearest of mirrors,

                                      our wooden idols 

and hidden knives —

               

daring instructions to be the Samaritan.

To abandon pretense 

                         of higher standing,

 risk washing dirt 

                   from guest’s feet,

      lay aside fear for personal survival, 

Cold hearts may brake open to 

          pursue human wholeness, 

                                and learn their truth, 

Relish the harmonies of the 

                                     uniquely complete. 

 

Celebrate recognition

      of our creator’s intent,

                       recline together,

                              and bask in the joy of

heaven’s earthly incarnation —

                            

                        Fed on the vine.

THH 

8/31/25

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