Recognition in Three Parts

Three separate things…

I was invited recently to consider anew the Emmaus story… it is a favourite of mine anyway and has been good company these recent days.  In part…”Now while he was with them at table, he took the bread and said the blessing; then he broke it and handed it to them.  And their eyes were opened and they recognized him; but he had vanished from their sight.”

I went to a poetry reading again after several months had passed since last attending the gathering.  Several of the same people were among the 25 or so in attendance, including someone who had taken the time to walk by my chair and said “I’m really glad you came.” at the first meeting.  This time, we had a brief but longer exchange and will have tea and a walk on Thursday.

I remembered a quotation from a favourite book—The Elegance of the Hedgehog… 

“They didn’t recognize me,” I repeat.  He stops in turn, my hand still on his arm.  “It is because they have never seen you,” he says.  “I would recognize you anywhere.”

Recognition

Once,

there was a studious art

to remaining indifferent

when mistaken by people and therefore

left on my own.

It was easier,

I thought I was happier,

and on spun the universe

with her elliptical fascinations. 

Now, 

however, the awe, the art, 

is in remembering to breathe

when the universe stops

ever so briefly 

and we notice each other

and recognize our stardust

and say wow…

if we need

to say anything

at all.

Kimberly M. King, RSCJ