04/04/2026
The following poem was written by Paul Totah a freelance writer on Good Friday, 2023 after observing Care Through Touch massage therapists providing foot massage at the Healing Well on Holy Thursday 2023
Washing the feet then, just as now,
Is a prelude to something else.
When the women at the well
In the Tenderloin began their ministrations,
They hold bare feet close to their sternum
before cleaning feet unused to tenderness.
The women massaged the fear straight out
Of the flesh and bones, held the longing
In their hands, hoping that the love
Shared would transcend from feet
To heart, then to hands and head,
Run through nerves and veins
Letting these people know they are worthy
Of touch. Only then, can our feet sustain us
When we walk on the hard pavement
Past fallen brothers, sisters who are fast asleep
In the torpor of their longing. Then the memory
Of love's touch, perhaps, will take on new form,
New life, and transcend into something corporeal
And caring. Something real. Something healing.
