facing the supply cubbie
flanked by the printer
(bedecked with Post-it notes),
computer at my alternate elbow.
Stray crackers sit open
next to the pen and paper and glasses,
mid-snack, abandoned.
Paper, tape, scissors
stapler--all adorn this
secular cum sacred space.
How so?
I folded my hands
in prayer and decided
to break bread
(and spoon soup)
at my husband's desk
on a Saturday.
There is poetry (and prayer) at work.
~~~~~~~~~~
This post was prompted by Glynn Young's book "Poetry at Work", an eye-opening, succinct little volume urging us to see the poetry all around us even (especially) at work. Glynn has a day job but also blogs at Faith Fiction and Friends.