Rituals Shared

By

Joseph Anthony

 

Sweeping the stoop of the shop with quick,
brisk motions,

Scattering maple tree seeds into helicoptering
swirls,

Pausing to look at the rising spring sun, he
removes his hat,

Wipes his brow, squints at the sky, hears the
distant,

Early morning train, then thanks God for
another day

Of doing what he loves. 

 

Slowly he resumes his dance with the broom,
breathing in

Images of his children and grandchildren,
breathing out

Whispered apologies for losing his patience
the day before,

Resolving to remember he was young once too.

 

He turns, pushes open the screen door that
rings the little 

Bells at the top of the frame, enters the shop,
turns the 

“Come in We’re Open/Sorry We’re Closed” sign to 

“Come
in We’re Open.” 

 

Brewing coffee aroma winds its way into his
widening 

Nostrils as he breathes deeply possibilities and 

Remembrances, he ties the white apron around his waist, 

Thanks God for another day of doing
what he loves, 

And then begins,

First pausing to look down at the
bread board,

He then sweeps his hand across the cool
surface

With the same tenderness he has used for half
a century.

 

He takes out the silver bowl of dough from the
gleaming, 

Silver refrigerator, lifts the white cloth that
covers the bowl,

Folds it neatly into a square and places it
nearby. 

 

He then tosses three handfuls of flour across 

The bread board, lifts the dough allowing it to exhale 

And
spread, and as he begins kneading he sings, 

Sings morning prayers, filling his lungs with the fragrance 

Of baking bread, 

And his
heart with devotion to Saint Elizabeth, 

And for a moment he is
transported to the Basilica 

Of Santa Maria in ancient Rome; 

He kneels before the infant, folds his hands
to pray,

And as he does loaves of bread spill from his
arms,

Turning into heaps of roses, and he weeps,

Weeps knowing he saw the infant nod,

And then he rises, rises and smiles, thanking
God 

For another day of doing what he loves, 

And as he rises the
little bells ring,

Ring at the opening of the door to the shop,
bringing him 

Back to the kneading, back to his hands, and he
beams,

Beams a greeting to the customer who has come
as he does

Every morning for coffee, for bread, and for
the humanity

Of rituals shared.

 

 

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Copyright Joseph Anthony of the Wonder Child Blog