Emmaus to New York

to love the stranger,

is to love your friend.

to incarnate yourself

into their story and pray

for all things to be well in them.

 

if your best minutes

spent on their behalf,

in private & private thought,

-a good day's work indeed-

would help you see the

foreigner in a foreign land.

 

Home is not Emmaus,

or the old continent

or Boston or New York:

It is in the walk from A to B

with a stranger turned friend

and vanished from the table

before the borscht was cold,

only to be found again and

yet again, on roads leading

here, or wherever else you

think you need to be.