Poetry

by Carol Lynn Pearson


He Who Would Be Chief Among You

And He rose from supper,
Poured water in a basin,
And washed the disciples’ feet.
Those hands, hardened by the heat
Of a desert sun, comfortable with cutting trees
And turning them to tables in Joseph’s shop—
Those hands that with a wave could stop
The troubled sea, could touch a leper clean,
Or triumphantly turn death away
From the loved daughter on Jairus’ couch—
Those hands that could gesture
The heavens open—
Poured water in a basin,
And washed the disciples’ feet.
The lesson lay unlearned,
But to a few—
Who trust the paradox
And hear the call:
He who would be chief among you,
Let him be the servant of all.

Untitled

Dare ye know what life beholds
above the mountain crest?
Outstretch your neck that you might seek the skies
and know
the gull
with wing outstretched
has dipped the purest element of life,
faced its maker,
cried
its challenges to
man