Taste of Your Goodness
August 13, 2013
You rang the dinner bell, loud and long,
your hand on your hip as you searched the lowered sun
waiting for my arrival.
How many days did you wait, ring and wait, wait and ring,
while your kitchen cooled and the food grew stale
the table ornate made empty?
And yet, each day, you rang the dinner bell, long and loud,
waiting again for a shadow, a flicker,
the signs that I might choose tonight to come.
Meal prepared and delaying, savory smells wafting
over the countryside where the cows graze
and your fields wait bowed down for harvest.
And finally, the echo of the bell reached my ear
but more, it reached my heart
and it bounced within my starving soul.
So I came home.
And there you stood, hand on hip, dinner bell beside
Smile wide, beckon me in.
And I eat.
Like a man without food for weeks.
Like a woman who has worked too hard too long.
Like a child who has run too far, too far away.
I eat.
Your food, your table, your smile as I inhale,
hands quick to fill my plate again and again and again
until I am at once begging you to stop and pleading for more.
More.
More.
And when I am done, pushed back in my chair,
contented sigh and eyes that meet
where love is a silent speaking.
“Welcome home, my love.
Welcome home to my table.
Welcome home to my home.
Welcome home to my heart.
Welcome home, my love.
You’ve been gone for long.
And yet all I have is still yours.
Always.”
And so I taste of your goodness
And remember the flavor, savor, favor
Wonder why I left in the first place.
My shame is melted by a touch on my shoulder,
you take up my plate and smile at the doorway,
roll up sleeves to wash the dishes.
Your humming fills my memory
with the sounds of suds and happy sighs.
The smells of grace surround.
ordinary sacred 