By Their Works Poem by Bob Hicok
By Their Works
Who cleaned up the Last Supper?
These would be my people.
Maybe hung over, wanting
desperately a better job,
standing with rags
in hand as the window
beckons with hills
of yellow grass. In Da Vinci,
the blue robed apostle
gesturing at Christ
is saying, give Him the check.
What a mess they've made
of their faith. My God
would put a busboy
on earth to roam
among the waiters
and remind them to share
their tips. The woman
who finished one
half eaten olive
and scooped the rest
into her pockets,
walked her tiny pride home
to children who looked
at her smile and saw
the salvation of a meal.
All that week
at work she ignored
customers who talked
of Rome and silk
and crucifixions,
though she couldn't stop
thinking of this man
who said thank you
each time she filled
His glass.
A well expressed piece of poem. Thanks for sharing with us. Sylva
'The salvation of a meal Great imagery. Congrats on the Poem of the Day.
The woman who finished one half eaten olive and scooped the rest into her pockets, walked her tiny pride home to children who looked at her smile and saw the salvation of a meal.......touching expression with nice theme. Beautiful poem.
Conveys His kindness and humanity more than a cleric ever could.
A beautiful poem. As is The painting of The Last Supper. It is a painting that starts the mind. Thank you for expressing all of our possible thoughts.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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10/12/2024 8:06:48 PM # 1.0.0
Of a meal! ! Thanks for sharing.