Since awe sometimes is out of reach
and mind strains in its own finitude,

I will take the elements, the staples of the day’s end
and breathe in their meaning:

grace like the sourdough I stir through the bowl,
holiness like the wine I savour

though kids tip their food and yell,
a table ripe with God
even now.

Published by Matthew Pullar

Teacher, writer, blogger, husband, father, Christian. Living in Wyndham in Melbourne's west, on the land of the Kulin Nation. Searching for words to console and feed hearts and souls.

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