A tumble of dancing memories,
Bits of yesterday on parade,
Inscribe their indelible signatures
Upon the pink pavement.
Those early childhood mornings;
That first hunt; Daddy holding the hook,
And I the worm; sore fingers
Shelling peas picked, plucked
Fresh from Grandmother’s garden.
Chewing and eating is time well-tasted;
Every morsel a moment, bittersweet.
Each meal a memorial, a eucharist.
Do this in remembrance. Past and future
Collapse into the mystical present.
Eternity, playing host, lays the feast;
Banquet of fat things,
Toast of wine well-refined,
Poured from grapes not yet planted,
Drawn from cellars as of yet unbuilt.
Zigzag bones do their strange work
Of deep magic; pulverizing death,
Breaking the mortal remains in pieces
Until death is swallowed up by life
And living. The former things
Pass away. Behold! All that was
Is new again.