Do This

Dawn Colsey
Dawn Colsey

Jesus, my friend and teacher,
you reach out your hands to wash my feet.
I offer them, soiled from sandals
in the dusty street.
I hang my head,
ashamed to see you
my servant.

You raise my face,
gaze with clear eyes.
‘You do this too, for me,
when I am no longer here with you,
yet still close, no distance between us,
for I am with you always.
You are my servant too.’