Just a man sitting at a kitchen

table mumbling morning prayers

while everywhere around him

the birds wait for the light.

Do such simple scenes keep

the world green for this life and

for the life to come? Maybe.

Though his long-cherished season

is still weeks away he listens to

The First Noel, the carol an odd

memento mori. He wonders if his

end will arrive sitting at a kitchen

table mumbling prayers rote and

fresh as dawn and birdsong. Maybe.

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  1. Thelma on October 23, 2019 at 6:56 am

    “. . . mumbling prayers rote and fresh as dawn and birdsong”

    wow, I shall pray on encouraged by this! thank you!!

  2. Nick Lee on October 23, 2019 at 8:17 am

    Well, you did it. You used poetry to make me audibly swear at work. Carols as a memento mori… that’s going to stick with me for a few months.

  3. Dianne Lami on October 26, 2019 at 1:44 pm

    Yes! You’re writing again, Mr. Blase! Just today I heard you say you were tired; in a season of rest and not writing. But. I don’t know when you recorded the interview with Emily P. Freeman for Hope*Writers. I happened to listen to it today. Your words filled several pages of my note pad. But now, be encouraged! Your lovely poem spoke to my heart! Stay the course!

    • John Blase on November 2, 2019 at 10:17 am

      Hi, Dianne. Thanks for reading my words, and for your encouraging response.

  4. Christina Hubbard on October 31, 2019 at 9:30 pm

    Would they happen to be from Venite? Not a bad way to go indeed. Enjoyed your Fathom piece immensely, John. Glad to find your site too. Peace!

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