Sabbath Work

This is the work of the Sabbath.

All creatures flower 

out of themselves, a rose, 

spiraling star pollen 

in a meadow of midnight sky,

a blue-green egg, floating

in the nest of the twig-weaver,

and our little planet, 

eddied in its swirl of distances.

Your work is flowering too,

bursting from the loam 

of the effortless, 

the ground of forgiving. 

A prophet does not see 

into the future. 

A prophet sees deeply

into the present moment.

From now on, friend,

each stranger you meet 

is You.

Bathe everything 

in the light that pours 

through your heart-window.

Photo by Kristy Thompson