The Servant-Girl at Emmaus

'Stop that clatter woman'

The gruff voice intoned,

'There's guests to serve'

She returned to her work,

Retrieved the fallen tray,

Tried to hide her trembling hands,

'Just do as I say.'

But she was lost, truly

Dared not shift her head,

Only what remained in view-

A pitcher, pestle, cup,

Scraps of discarded bread,

And heedless of the cost,

She never looked behind, instead,

Rallied every sinew to busyness,

And seeking more to do, thought,

'How can I serve those men again?'

To look upon a face she knew.

Just three days, was it?

Was it three?

In Jerusalem,

Dead on a tree?

Straining to hear his voice,

Straining, in lamp light,

Frozen, heart-burning,

She began again her turning.

'The Servant-Girl at Emmaus'  Valazquez c.1620