{"id":88039,"date":"2021-06-26T09:50:03","date_gmt":"2021-06-26T13:50:03","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/?p=88039"},"modified":"2021-06-26T09:50:03","modified_gmt":"2021-06-26T13:50:03","slug":"the-ritual-an-umbilical-cord","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/2021\/06\/the-ritual-an-umbilical-cord\/","title":{"rendered":"The Ritual &#8211; an umbilical cord"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>My parents born in one country,<\/p>\n<p>moved to another,<\/p>\n<p>for freedom.<\/p>\n<p>I grew up between two cultures.<\/p>\n<p>In time I moved to<\/p>\n<p>yet another, third country,<\/p>\n<p>following my husband, starting a family.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>I should have felt misplaced, astray,<\/p>\n<p>adrift.<\/p>\n<p>But a cord tethered,<\/p>\n<p>pulled me back.<\/p>\n<p>It was a ritual, a sacred one.<\/p>\n<p>A Mass.<\/p>\n<p>The same words, sights and smells<\/p>\n<p>even in different languages,<\/p>\n<p>told me I was the same.<\/p>\n<p>Oh how exquisite, the feeling of belonging!<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>I took for granted, the Sunday mass,<\/p>\n<p>Until one day,<\/p>\n<p>we could not touch another,<\/p>\n<p>even in gestures of peace.<\/p>\n<p>The holy water font was emptied.<\/p>\n<p>We might get infected,<\/p>\n<p>by the deadly virus,<\/p>\n<p>from hell.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>The church emptied, how shocked I was!<\/p>\n<p>And the communion put away.<\/p>\n<p>Was it possible after<\/p>\n<p>two thousand years?<\/p>\n<p>That first Sunday, I <em>did<\/em> feel adrift,<\/p>\n<p>bereft.<\/p>\n<p>A lone priest came,<\/p>\n<p>disinfected his hands.<\/p>\n<p>Gave communion<\/p>\n<p>to the few hanging around.<\/p>\n<p>I have never received it,<\/p>\n<p>With such gratitude,<\/p>\n<p>with tears in my eyes and a prayer on my lips.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>The last I received for many, many months.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>My parents born in one country, moved to another, for freedom. I grew up between two cultures. In time I moved to yet another, third country, following my husband, starting a family. &nbsp; I should have felt misplaced, astray, adrift. But a cord tethered, pulled&#8230;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2873,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[11],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-88039","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-half-marathon-poem"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/88039","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2873"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=88039"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/88039\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":88099,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/88039\/revisions\/88099"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=88039"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=88039"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=88039"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}