Bread and Wine

At a time when the time,
Of all ages distills,
When all hopes and all fears,
Now chill and stand still,
And a meal, and a prayer,
And a clash of the wills,
Meal of wheat, fruit of vine,
Mark the end of all ills,
Bread and Wine.

A dark night garden prayer,
And the falseness of friends,
The holy and the strong,
With strong arms now descend,
Without word, without blame,
A man walks to his end.
Thorns and nails, spike the skin,
Blood with mud pool and blend,
Bread and Wine.

Cry of prayer of lament,
Body slumps, drooping head,
Sky blackens in mourning,
The Man hangs broke and dead.
Tomb — a slab, and a sheet,
A long rest, a stone bed,
No! Death will not hold love
Communion rises instead.
Bread and Wine.

And the days and years since,
All beloved come to Him,
And when darkness besets,
And His light may seem dim,
This time is still the time,
To be filled to the brim,
With the food and the cup,
The songs of Seraphim,
Bread and Wine.
Body and Blood.
Death and Life.
Amen.