I am a yellow dandelion flower
sprinkled by a gentle rain
falling from gray stratus clouds,
a blanket draped upon the land.
The shower passes over,
washing and watering me.

I am a cotton dress shirt
spotted by water droplets
falling from the sprinkler top
on an old Blue Nun bottle.
The iron passes over,
steaming and pressing me.

I am a man in a yellow cotton shirt
splashed by the vigil’s asperges*
flinging blessed water,
a reminder of the primal washing.
The spray passes over,
refreshing and renewing me.

*From the Latin phrase, Asperges me, meaning “Sprinkle me,” that begins the portion of the liturgy when holy water is sprinkled upon the altar and the people.

David M. Frye
April 13, 2009
Denton, Neb.