You are the bread of life
and the knife of heaven
the cup of blessing broken
and the wine poured out
You are the unblemished lamb
and the priest who makes
the atoning sacrifice.
You are older than starlight
stronger than ocean currents
a cradler of infants
and washer of weary feet.
You are the founder of laughter
and the original of love — yes
somehow even in its myriad absurdities
You are the progenitor of all its goodly gifts.
You are wiser than memory
truer than experience
a champion of the foolish
and a friend to the fallen.
what i am, in contrast, is irrelevant —
and in fact i don’t want to dwell on it —
for i am the fallen, the foolish
the weary-footed infant wailing ceaselessly
the reason You became the bread of life
the knife of heaven, the cup of blessing broken
and the wine poured out
the unblemished lamb
and the priest who completed the sacrifice.
i am hungry, and You
are the bread and the wine.
You are always the bread and the wine.
