Maundy Thursday



You worship the Master as if he wasn't
just like you.
But why did the Master come?
Only to remind you, friend,
that you and the Lord of Love
were born of one mother.
His breath is the same air.
His soles are covered with the same dust.
Both of you say, "I Am," yet the Am is one.
You bow and wash his feet in your tears,
but a real Master will not accept such behavior.
He lifts you up into his smile
and whispers the true name of Light in your ear.
Then he bows to you, you bow to me,
I bow to the poorest flower.
In the ocean of grace, from crown to toes,
we wash each others perfect bodies.

No comments: