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Holding His Sacred Body

The priest
has just placed the wafer
into the palm
of my hand
like taking the beaten
body of Jesus down
off the cross.
Now He smells
of burial spices
where aloe has found its way
into each delicate
Imagine removing
the first
I carry Him for just a brief
and feel the flutter of a world,
a moth wing,
a vulnerable God
in amniotic fluid.
A large stone
has been rolled away
and my hands enter the tomb
to feel God again
and place Him
on my tongue
where He is as light
as a petal.

8 Jul 15

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Although I am no longer Catholic, this resonates.  It is so beautifully written.  It is not easy to write a spiritual poem without sounding sappy or preachy but I believe you have done a superior job here.  Lovely images and I can smell the incense burning.
 — Isabelle5

Love this!
Brilliant imagery and comparisons.
This feels more spiritual than — as what Isabelle said — those preachy poems.
 — unknown