I’m working on a poetry collection based on the gospel of Matthew. There are 42 planned poems and today I’ve finally written poem 18. I started this project about seven years ago and had hoped to have it done by now, but over time I find the poems harder to write as my knowledge and experience with the gospel changes my thinking and theology. This is due to many factors including study, meditation, prayer and discussion with others. Normally I share the poems in my collection with trusted close friends. Today it just seems right to share one of these here. The context for the poem is Matthew 9:35-10:8 although I hope that you can get something out of the poem even if you haven’t read the passage.
Orange Blossom Time
Frail white bud appearing among green stem.
Air filled with thriving fertility.
Sound of growing fruit drifting on an easterly breeze.
Promise starts to bend branches.
Bees seek nectar.
Mute song birds look towards a lush sky.
A cat rests in the shade of a leaf converting sun to maternal perfume.
Two old hands sit in the sun waiting for harvest time.
Green brightens to orange.
Life ladened among too few hands.
A call for help, a box, a bag …
Little is taken as few hands answer
Andrew's View of the Week 