With a Nod to the Empty Tomb I will make my bed. I will seed the earth in perfect curves and rows— fine labyrinth of green. I will run scales as praise, not notes, invoke the Triune in every chord. Let me slice onions, beets, as if kitchen knives and cutting boards were holy art. Yes, I will choose words like a glazier perched in a high nave carefully placing each flame-blue shard.
Abigail Carroll is author of Habitation of Wonder and A Gathering of Larks: Letters to Saint Francis from a Modern-Day Pilgrim. Her poems have appeared in Sojourners, Christian Century, the Anglican Theological Review, Crab Orchard Review, and the anthologies How to Love the World and Between Midnight and Dawn: A Literary Guide to Prayer for Lent, Holy Week, and Eastertide. She serves as an arts pastor in Burlington, Vermont, and enjoys playing Celtic harp.
“Let me slice onions,
beets, as if kitchen knives
and cutting boards
were holy art.” Beautiful sanctification of the ordinary.
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