foot-loose

the enactment..or rather the reenactment
of the foot washing on the eve of the last supper..
took place here in patmos this morning..
it was only that ..an enactment..
no toes were showing..
the priests had their shoes on..
don't ask me why i was disappointed..
did i want to see the priests feet and calves?
o my o

the washing of the feet..
often times called the great act of humility..
indeed..
is most humbling ~
for those washing; those being washed
a bowing, a cleansing, a tender act of devotion..love..
the lowering of my will to thy will..if you will..

boobsi's owner..
(see the post..my life as a dog)
the sweet priest..
was the deacon, the canter, the chanter..
his rich desert voice offering the gospel of st. john..
of course, my mind wandered off to boobsi
whenever i looked up...

the square was crowded; i was standing in front
of one of those classic greek elder gents..
so kind to translate much of what was taking place..
his wife was in the back with other women friends..
they had come over from the island of kos
to spend their easter on patmos..

the day was bright and warm..and o so windy..
the priests had to hold their hats and head-dresses ~
the three large windmills were let loose,
the sight of the circling frames on the olde stone houses
was invitation for refreshment..renewal..

I listen to the wind, to the wind of my soul
Where I end up, well, I think only god really knows
I swam across the setting sun, but never, never, never, never
I never wanted water once, no never, never, never
~cat stevens / yusuf islam