Poetry

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We were all in prayer
heads bowed in the sanctuary
as she began to speak
to proclaim our petitions
speak for all of us
in pastoral prayer
speaking of the holiday
the meaning behind the pausing
the remembering of
Labor Day
She spoke of our concerns,
our celebrations, sharing
with each other, with God
But then she paused,
murmuring reminders of the larger world
the unfinished business
of laborers tired, laborers working
through Labor Day
of the forgotten and used
minimum wage
The sky opened, as if in retort
giving an Amen from the heavens
rapping suddenly, intently, insistently
on the domed roof
echoing through the wood
high above us
Preach sister! Preach of the oppressed
the migrants and the unwanted jobs
the unskilled, and our desires for things
make us remember that laborers
still labor, this Labor Day
that we in this land of excess
have forgotten the mills, but they are there
they are still in use
for our desires, our wantings
We are kindred with them too
even when we forget
see only the day off
reminded by her words,
the staccato of the rain raising its voice
while ours were still
heads bowed
listening to her prayer
and the Amen and Amen again
echoing in the rain

September 3, 2006 15:52

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