What is your purpose?

When a table sits still
on a shiny wood floor,
doesn’t it laugh
at the dishes it holds,
while chairs pull up
beneath its belly
on wandering feet.

Then laughter erupts
from the screws in its spine,
holding its legs
and platform in line
as the smell of savory food
Send clouds through the ethers,
warming the room
like a memory had.
It knows its purpose.
It doesn’t complain.

Then come the dishes,
shiny as polished leather,
waiting to be dirtied
by the food the table’s seen.
But this time,
they lock in.
A front row seat
to the seasoned host.

Forks play music
a DJ on turntables,
spinning across porcelain
like legends in fables.
Finger swipes,
tongue licks,
graceful spins and clinks
But do they complain?

Look at the fork and spoon
in harmony they dance,
taking turns around the Ferris wheel
of the plate’s round glance,
divinely led
into the mouths
of living beings.
Yet they never
quit their jobs.

Take a look
at the living being—
You.
with so many gifts
woven through your essence.
A mind beyond this world,
navigating the physical,
feeling life’s rhythm
in and out of form,
called to fulfill
a heart’s pure purpose
before the sun grows warm.

Did you give up on your mission?
I doubt that you did.
You came through a portal
from sacred waters
carried through
your mother’s womb
to make a change

You are your ancestors’
wildest dreams
the walking legacy
of divine extremes.
You are here
to carry the fire,
to spread God’s gifts,
to climb ever higher.

So, what is your purpose?
The world still waits.
Pull up your seat
and fill your plate.