Worn
Poem for holding fast to what holds us.
what have you seen from here?
what have you not seen?
standing a strange sentinel
atop eternity’s raised platform.
.
staggering under awe
of bread and cup and words
taken, broken, lifted up
revealing the nearness of mystery divine.
.
Humanity kneeling down,
rising up, and even now
turning away to self
faithless once more.
.
lingering hints of sunday’s flowers
times’s sweet kiss of dying breath,
when all known is shaken,
may we return to you again
these rubbed-raw corners of our lives.
.