My Hands and My Head

Washed with the waters of unconditional love,
Not just dusty feet with basin and towel
But up and down the body, here and there,
Every nook and cranny, cleft, appendage,
Unblocking sweat glands, rubbing off sebum,
Human pheromones with pungent odours,
Flaked skin that might have become dust,
Leftovers of epidermal regeneration
Removed sacramentally with a dash of soap,
Cleansed, refreshed, for a day that begins with hope.
Gone in gentleness, curling down the drain,
Mingling with the effluent of a thousand neighbours
Who unthinkingly pull the plug and chain,
While here reverently discarded, as though holy water.

September 2014

John 13:9