Helen Schmidt – Fine Art

The Table

How long have I been a beggar

Stealing scraps from my Master’s table

Not realizing I was welcome

To the whole feast?

When you slipped through

That narrow crevasse

You stole my equipoise

Like a burglar in the night

Faced with your purity

I dump my tricks

Like the sack of bones

that they are

Friend, you are so welcome at this table

I have laid for you at last

When you arrive

Your presence stills my chatter

You blend innocence and wisdom

In a single gaze

That illuminates everything

You exist without judgment or attachment

In a moment that goes on forever

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