The one who washes

We’re so busy standing on our own two feet
we don’t often notice the who washes them.
Embraces your stinky parts.
Accepts the most embarrassing things without judgment.
With holes in his hands,
trembling a little, but with skill and strength
washes you tenderly.
Your lowly servant. Your scapegoat.
Gently soothes what is rough and sore.
Patient, forgives what aches,
mends what is wounded,
blesses what has gone unloved.
Handcuffed, cleans you up.
Honors what has brought you to this place.
Enables you to stand tall, to walk on.
Asks nothing in return, but acts in pure devotion.
For your sake.

Every moment,
the Beloved kneels at your feet.

Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
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