A Sunday poem by Franki.

Before I close my eyes
I exhale
As if having
held my breath
since waking.

A whisper
reminds me of a
humble man, 
whose sandals
I’m not
worthy to untie.

Whose beauty
I’m not 
worthy to behold,
whose beard
I’m not
worthy to kiss,
whose hands
I’m not
worthy to hold,
His hands
I’m still
trying to hold.

Before I close my eyes
I breathe in,
as if having
received life
from the one
who made me.

Who invites me to
break bread
at his table,
where stones
lay lost
around us.

Before I close m eyes
he looks
into mine
(inhales)
and
calls me
beloved
(exhales).