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Growing in the dark
almost silently;
reaching upwards,
like fingers snatching
for the tiniest thread of light.
Nurturing in the dark
tip-toeing gently;
new growth welcomed,
caressed with worn fingers,
lit by dripping candles.
Triangle God; Creator, Son and Spirit,
We pray for Rhubarb farmers,
working in the dark:
planting, nurturing and harvesting
the ruby red stems;
lighting their way with candles
in a secret liturgy;
toiling to bring to light
the scarlet treasure.
We are amazed by the transformation
from dry root stock to tasty foodstuff.
As you transform the rhubarb,
so change us, the rhubarb eaters,
to watch and wait
for the harvest time:
when it comes it takes all stalks.
Seen on a van in Wakefield: Honk if you like Rhubarb