Friday, March 02, 2007

The Kitchen


I love the sunshine in the kitchen,
The glory of the light awakens
All the familiar textures of pot and china.
This is the home of the house,
The center of its warmth,
The articulation of its love,
In the rise of bread, the crust of pie,
And the richness of gravy.
It is the place of your caring,
Fleshed out in the daily details,
Too small to be noted one by one,
But each constructing the heart of the house.

Your delight in us is incarnated here,
And this is the place of our true receiving.
Here we come hungry, thirsty and in our need,
To meet the kindness of your hands.
And your friends came,
Finding a warmth they sought and a love they craved.
Not a pretentious place,
A good cause or a moral crusade.
If you will, another Nazareth,
Hidden in the wilderness of the world,
Where kindness feeds a poor Christ and his friends,
And bids them come in from the dark.

-Tim Marks

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Such a nice poem; thank you! Your table looks fit for a king and yet shines forth the glad welcome to even the least of us. Never underestimate the priceless value of the warmth and love of a home such as yours.