setting out to share communion

 

I walked across the city,
keeping to the running veins;
towering above as
caterpillars crossed my paths,
while, as far again above
my earthbound frame, a
kestrel surfed upon the wind.

I crossed the river as it
snaked beneath my feet — castle,
far down the other
shore — and climbed the hill to reach
my goal; my back, so slick with
sweat, so drenched, I might
as well have run, not walked here.

I am both river running
to the Sea, and earth that rises
up to greet the Way.
I am both worm that dreams of
flight, and kestrel on its soar-
ing wing. I am the
air blown by the wind; come, rain.

I am the grain that Christ will
mill to make the bread that he
will turn into His
Very Self — he, not I — for
all are one in him alone.
I blessed his people +
and I make my journey home.