Streaming Beggars

Now that you have moved
into my heart, taken
the doors off their hinges and
removed the windows,
glass, sash and
beggars are coming from
everywhere for
your sweet embrace.

The beggars stream in from
every direction–walking, running, crawling,
rolling and being carried. The neighbors
have stopped
screaming about it. At first they had
plenty to say but after
weeks and weeks of this they
know there is no
helping it. This is beyond
city ordinances.

Soon they will be coming
themselves, dropping
rakes, dog leashes, clothespins,
leaving cars running
in the street, for a glimpse
of your holy face.

What am I to do but

watch in awe at the blessed
variety of your creation, the myriad wounds,
the incredible stories, the way they gather
around the door quivering
with the certain knowledge that finally
no one
will be turned away.

And stay in the house
making meals, and carrying
sheets up and down the stairs.

—Jeannie Zandi

God’s Favorite Waitress

I want to be God’s
favorite waitress. When
he comes
in the door, I
want him
to ask for me. When
he wants
I want him
to ask me
to get it. I don’t care
what it is. And
I don’t care
he asks.

I want
to spend my life
perfecting my approach. Warm
smile, gracious welcome, sweet,
unhurried manner.
I want him
to feel like
he’s my only

When my car breaks
down in the middle of the night with
my young daughter asleep
in the back seat, I know
it’s another chance
to capture
his heart.

I ask, what will it be
God? What can
I bring you
from the kitchen? A meeting
with a friendly stranger? Hours
of waiting
in the dark? Or a long alert walk
on this cold, moon-less night?
You tell me.

I’ll go get it.

—Jeannie Zandi