With silent steps
We tiptoe our way toward the end of Lent
As we peek over our shoulders to see
The weeks that have brought us here
Weeks of searching
Days of journeying
Hours of anticipation
Leading to this time we dare to approach
In awe and reverence
At the message we know is to come
At the tale told countless times in our life
Yet always hauntingly new
Of human inhumanity toward a divinely-wrapped human one
(Or is it a humanly-wrapped divine one?)
Of pain and anguish and fear and desire
To remove a cup
While there on a Table is
A cup reserved
For us
Some bread set aside
For us
By one who now bleeds and is broken
As we ourselves would bleed and break
Pace e Bene,
Gerry
Oops--Sorry--I forgot to post this earlier this week when I did the newsletter.
©Gerry Brague
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