Pilgrims
So this is why we come
in these dark times,
to pull our starving hearts
up to their broad table.
Through the open door we catch
the savor of humility and high principles
–so long out of style
–too long ceded to the intolerant.
As each new guest arrives
we all shift right to make
a plate-wide space appear,
another chair is found
and grace comes down
to this plain place
without
our
asking.
It is a table simply set,
no two plates match
and yet
no pattern shows through
the ample helping.
We pass the heavy platters 'round,
heaped with courage
for the unbroken tracts
and fine slices
of bravery
for the everyday.
On the sideboard, justice stands
firm and sweet.
We serve each other forgiveness
from a cracked tureen.
At our right hand, cool draughts of honesty.
Before us, warm loaves of generosity
and the crisp relish of play.
There are trenchers of kindness,
salvers of self-sacrifice,
and in the center,
humor
in a flowing bowl.
When everyone's full
there's pie, of course—
the fruit of patience
latticed with tolerance.
Outside these rough-framed walls
we're accustomed to take our meals
alone, where realism's slippery sauce
congeals
on the cynic's dreary fare.
But here, in this beloved room,
where each one
comes
a
pilgrim,
none of us leaves hungry
and everyone gets
the last
piece.