March 10: Runny Eggs, Psalm 2, and Saint Macarius

My egg art

Just a few notes today to introduce my poem.  First, I love runny eggs in the morning.  In fact, I often make my coworkers a little nauseous with the uncooked state of my breakfast.  Second, my two-year-old son lost our TV remote last night, and it still hasn't been recovered.  I'm thinking I need the help of Macarius, today's saint, who, among his accomplishments, found the true Cross in Jerusalem around the year 325.  If he could find that, I would think a stupid TV remote would be a piece of cake.  Third, I am, for the first time, using some of my original artwork with this post.  I have noticed many Blogs of Note deal with photography, art, cartooning, and/or crafts.  I figure a drawing or two couldn't hurt.  And four, I was really hungry when I wrote the following praise psalm.

Psalm 2:  In Praise of Runny Eggs

O, Lord, bless a runny egg in the morning.
Bless its gold and white, as liquid
As a slick of oil on a puddle of rain.
Bless salt and pepper, the taste of earth
On my tongue, precious in ancient Israel,
That makes my spit leap like mountain goats.
Bless a piece of toast, dark, whole wheat,
Thick with butter, the heat of summer,
The cool blade of autumn harvest, threshed,
Winnowed, gathered like good souls at Rapture.
Bless a cup of Mountain Dew, saffron yellow,
Sweet as the nectar from mother's breasts,
From streams of glacial melt, spring
Run-off in my mouth, the tilt of planet
Toward light, toward sun, toward birth.
Bless the aroma of roasted beans,
Ground, boiled, filtered into cups, brown
As the skin of Christ after forty days
In the desert.  Bless Rice Krispies.  Bless Pop Tarts.
Bless bacon.  Bless orange juice.  Bless milk.
Bless breakfast.  Bless morning.  Bless the universe
As it burns, spins out and out toward paradise.