Andrea Potos wrote this poem which I suspect has many different meanings. It will read differently tomorrow and the next day. Something new will appear as it finds space in my life.
When I found this poem, the opening lines resonated. It rained hard last night and is a cool day today. I don’t drink coffee, but my tea was the best this side of an oriental tea shop.
The poem impressed upon me the way life unfolds, much like a good book being read and re-read. We take time and find spaces where we can just be and enjoy what that book, that life means. We are called to this particular life, but it is not a given. We live it and interact with the world and its inhabitants in various ways. As a result, we change and the world changes in this living. Each time we read this book, it takes on a newer meaning, but reminds us of the past which is not simply discarded.
When on a June morning heavy with rain,
you can taste the best cappuccino
this side of Rome, in a cafe
with scarred maplewood tables,
a book of Caravaggio splayed open:
The Calling of St. Matthew
that could be set in a tavern,
a gambling den, a dank office where
tax collectors are counting their day’s work,
while in the top right of the frame, a gold-
seared light slices in, and with it,
the figure of a god made man—
a bolt of radiance shoots through
his finger, pointed as if to say: You,
it is you, I have called to this life.




