Tuesday - Holy Week

 
Here on Earth

The old man living

In his rented room

Grows lonely as the night comes on

Especially in winter

And the boy shooting drugs

On the tenement roof

Is lonely whether or not

He has companions

Lovers lie sleeping

Side by side

A wilderness between them

And their unborn infant

Is already alone

So soon to be discarded

Even as he begins

Unfolding in the womb

Of his lonely mother

Because the scatterer

Has overtaken us

Betraying promises

Estranging lovers

Tearing us inwardly

And tearing us apart

One from another

And this is why

Those of us who are sated

Find it so easy to ignore

Those of us who are starving

And why we have been known

To torture one another

Why there are times

When we are far more cruel

Than the animals.

Nevertheless

Taken all together

Or taken one by one

We are the holiest

Of all earth’s creatures

For he who kindled

The fire of the sun

He who draws out the tender leaves

From the dark twigs of winter

He who has whittled

A cabin for the snail

Has also carved our names

In the palm of his hand

And he became a child

The better to be near us

Born in the wintertime

Born on a journey

He grew to be a man

And lived among us

To be our healing

When we were sick

Our bread

When we were hungry

To be the wine

At all our weddings

He suffered at our hands

And he forgave us

He sweat from head to foot

With human anguish

And shedding every drop of blood

To give us each other

He gave himself to us

That we might live forever

He gave us even more

Than he has given the angels.

~Anne Porter