This day we’re meant to sing love’s newest note —
to note Christ’s washing filthy toe and heel.
“Lord, I’m a lamb, don’t treat me like a goat.”
“If I don’t wash you — you, I’ll never heal.”
“Then wash my feet, my hands, my head, my all.”
“O children, I’ve but time to bathe your feet,
after this night, after silver and gall,
I’ll tell you all — now I’ve time for your feet.”
After each toe was washed by Heaven’s head,
our Lord returned to the table and sat
to speak of hardened heart and dripping bread,
to speak of Simon’s son — the Devil’s rat;
that solid Son-of-Jonah’s triple no,
betrayal, bleating sheep — a morning crow.
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