April Poetry in the Field Challenge: Day 2

I sat on the porch in a winter coat, neck warmer and sun hat and read a sonnet by Malcolm Guite and the story of Jesus washing his disciples’ feet from the gospel of John.

I’m realizing that the heart of this month’s poetry challenge may be my own desperation to place myself back into rhythms of rest, breath and prayer.

When I’m in a dry spell with prayer, poetry is the gentle friend that lends words my soul needs to whisper a beginning.

After reading, I wrote a few lines of what could be considered a prayer. Then my fingers got too cold! But it was a start. An “Our Father” at least.

Today’s poem: Maundy Thursday

3 words of place: North wind whispers