from the Greek meaning “self-emptying”
By Anita Tanner
“If you could turn your heart into a cowstall,
Christ would be born again on earth.”
—Angelius Silestus
Old wood, manure,
and cattle urine
in milky darkness—
only one bare bulb
at the far end of the barn,
each stall cave-dark, heavy brown
where cows droop their heads
into the rough-barked
bottoms of mangers.
I walk to the stalls
out of duty, monotony,
dumb silence inside
heavy shadow.
On a three-legged stool
with a bucket between my knees,
I pause to watch cows
bow to their meal
in the quiet semi-dark.
How slow my heart learns
the cow’s path,
ancient patterns that turn
toward the hollowing,
hallowing of the ordinary,
light in darkness
where the less our thoughts
profess Him, the more
God appears.
