As the heart of the fall season begins, Father McHugh kindly asks to please read the following poem.
A cascade of cabbage and carrot,
a kaleidoscope of curly kale,
a trumpeting of tubers and a bursting of sprouts,
a partnership of parsnip, celery and mushroom,
a blush of beetroot in a line-up of leeks,
a winsome onion and a scintillating cucumber,
a broccoli-crowned turnip nudging a cauliflower,
all pressing around an incongruously exotic pineapple.
Tonight the altar is mobbed by vegetables
arraigned and arranged for the giving of glory,
fruit of the earth and work of human hands.
A riotous spectacle of ordinariness
stops entering worshippers in their tracks,
stealing a little of their breath away.
Gathered and gatherers sing the Giver’s praises
In the gentle glory of an October evening.