A New Maundy Thursday Poem

I thought I would share again the new poem I wrote on last year’s strange Maundy Thursday, as, a year later, many of us are still restricted and cannot meet for foot washing and communion. Nevertheless, as I explore in this poem, Jesus can still come to is it us.

As always you can hear me read it by clicking on the ‘play’ button or the title

Maundy Thursday, All the World is still

Maundy Thursday, all the world is still

The planes wait, grounded by departure gates

The street is empty and the shopping mall

Deserted. Padlocked, the playground waits

Against the day that children play again

Till then our sad refrain is just refrain.

Maundy Thursday, all the world is still

And Jesus is at supper with his friends

No longer in the upper room, that hall

In Zion where the story starts and ends,

For he descended from it long ago

To find his new friends in the here and now.

Maundy Thursday, all the world is still

And Jesus is at supper with his friends

Our doors are locked for fear, but he has skill

In breaking barriers. With ease he bends

Our prison bars, slips past the sentry post

And joins us as the guest who is our host.

Maundy Thursday All the world is still

But in cramped quarters on the fifteenth floor,

In lonely towers made of glass and steel,

And in the fierce favelas of the poor,

Touching with wounded hands the wounds he tends

Christ Jesus is at supper with his friends.

If you would like to encourage and support this blog, you might like, on occasion, (not every time of course!) to pop in and buy me a cup of coffee. Clicking on this banner will take you to a page where you can do so, if you wish. But please do not feel any obligation!

Buy Me A Coffee

2 Comments

Filed under imagination

2 responses to “A New Maundy Thursday Poem

  1. Kemi George Simpson

    Great poem thank you for sharing. I miss Maundy Thursday services. My kids and husband aren’t Angelican so they have no appreciation for the day. This was perfect as part of my devotion

    ‘In lonely towers made of glass and steel,
    And in the fierce favelas of the poor,
    Touching with wounded hands the wounds he tends
    Christ Jesus is at supper with his friends.’ He is alive indeed, alive in us!
    Thank you

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.