Table (Five Minute Friday)

Table

 

I was one of the uninvited.

 

Improper, dirty

underdressed, sweaty

from a day of labor

and forgetting.

 

I knew the thing was happening

as a distant pleasure, a high joy,

not for me.

 

And then the servant scurrying

along the road, grabbing

my sleeve.

“Come. Hurry. It’s starting.”

 

In the corner now, I gape.

The table is heaped with the unimaginable.

Celebrants crowding round,

light like laughter,

joy pulling like a lover’s hand.

 

I look down at my

dull shoes.

I wait to

disappear.

 

A voice speaks.

My name.

I shrink inward but still

I see him beckoning.

“Come. Sit

here, with me.”

 

I shake my head.

Absurd.

Of course not. This place

is not for me, was never meant

for me.

I was never meant

to be here.

 

He laughs.

He rises, comes,

takes my hand,

tugs me like a child.

 

“Did you think I didn’t know

you were coming

all along?

Did you think I didn’t

want you?

Look, just here.

Your name, carved.

I have been waiting.

This place was meant for you.”

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7 thoughts on “Table (Five Minute Friday)

  1. Love this, and really like the picture-metaphor of a special chair, unique to each celebrant.

    Your words, and a really savage attack of chest pain just before I read them, led to this…I hope you like it.

    He has prepared a place for me
    upon this dark and bloody ground
    where every vicious enemy
    is gathered coldly ’round.
    He is the author of the feast
    in this place where arrows fly;
    while at close hand there roars the Beast
    He will not let me die,
    for He chose His life as forfeit,
    He took my sin upon His head;
    He became, yes, my Knight Parfit
    and for me, rose from the dead
    that in the seed His blood had sown
    I truly might become His own.

    #1 at FMF this week.

    Liked by 1 person

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