Take my inhibition, please

I've finally conquered a small portion of my fear of breaking into the arts community here in Bloomington. Last Friday, I packed up a few poems, called a friend to force me to go, and downed a Steak-n-Shake sippable sundae before heading to an open-mic poetry night at a local cafe. Several published poets read first. I had forgotten how much I love to hear people read. Almost soothed me into a kind sleepiness before nerves would have kicked in.

So here's one that I ended up reading...

Holiness

What happens to a soul
after it detects holiness in a peeled egg?
In grinding tomorrow's coffee? Chopping vegetables,
stacking soap suds and clean dishes?
An ordinary soul dancing in stocking feet
through the drips
on the kitchen floor.

How can it possibly be prepared - how
could it even survive -
the Revealing to Come?

Try to understand,
no moment is unsacred.
Lighting a match
will echo into eternity. Now
stare into the flame.
The match burns shorter as eternity arrives.
Take care not to burn your fingertips.