Friday, December 4, 2015


Welcome to Poetry Friday where you will find a field of poems waiting for you at  Buffy's Blog.
In the spirit of thankfulness, spilling over from last week's gathered blessings, I'm sharing a poem I found at The site offers contemplative tools, instructive videos and some lovely e-cards to mail.

I love how this poem by Patrick Donnelly transports me out of my usual culture of Thanksgiving in which chickpeas and garlic are most likely absent. Our call to prayer is our table grace, not the call of an Imam. 

Donnelly's poem makes me think that preparing a meal is a prayer in itself. May our days of thankfulness extend beyond the annual day we set aside for thanks, and may they include room for traditions different from our own.

On Being Called To Prayer
While Cooking Dinner for Forty

When the heavens and the earth
are snapped away like a painted shade,
and every creature called to account,
please forgive me my head
full of chickpeas, garlic and parsley.
I am in love with the lemon
on the counter, and the warmth
of my brother’s shoulder distracted me
when we stood to pray.

The rest of the poem can be found here.

Patrick Donnelly is the Poet Laureate of Northampton, Massachussetts.


  1. 'My head full of chickpeas." Oh my I love those lines! I can imagine this all happening on the table. Brings me back to my childhood days where prayer felt forever to my greedy stomach.

    1. Oh, I know! And I love that line, too. It brings me right out of my Thanksgiving box and calls me to widen my circle to include so many more.


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