Search This Blog

Friday, July 8, 2011

The Eucharist

    Holy Communion
by Sister Mary Fisher, O.P.

It lies nestled in my hand,
      This white Host,
For precious seconds as we measure time.
   During that infinitesimal moment,
       Gazing at It, I firmly believe
          Christ, whole and entire---
     Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity---
          Rests on my palm, and
      I am Mary, Virgin-Mother,
          Caressing her Newborn;
        A sinner, clutching His robe;
            Martha, preparing a meal,
        Magdalene, bathing His dusty feet,
    Veronica, wiping His dear, weary face.
       I am myself, weak, needy, yearning
           For union with Him.
           "Come, Beloved, come!"
      And kissing the Host, I receive Him.

from Justitia, Poetry from the Second Annual OPrize for Poetry, p. 61.

No comments:

Reminiscing

 My sister died a month ago.  A sibling dying is not an inconsequential event, for anyone.  For me, it was deep.  You see, she was ten years...