I’ve been playing with this poem for a few years. I initially wrote it for a poetry workshop class I took.

I see a man wandering the parking lot.eucharist
My eyes follow him to his car where
the dent in the side and the empty beer
cans on his dashboard tell a sobering story.

Hearing my name I turn and see
my brother motioning me to hurry.
I walk through the raised arch,
holy water dripping a cross
from my head to my heart
and across my shoulders.

Kneeling I pray “Oh God come
to my aid. Oh Lord make haste
to help me. Nomine Patris,
Filii, et Spiritus Sancti.”

Going forward I take the body
of the Lord into my mouth
satisfied in the love of the savior.
Swallowing, I jealously place
the Bread of Life under lock and key.

I genuflect to the Bread of the Presence
and turn to leave stopping short
seeing the man from the parking lot
kneeling before an image of the suffering
Christ carrying his cross.

 

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