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katemyers222

Sabbath Supper

Updated: Feb 19

Bread and wine in wild communion

are tethered to the table Sabbath day

unleashed in the children’s sober reunion

and there it will not, will not, stay.



This bread touches doorknobs, hands and faces,

papers, phones, crumbles to the floor.

Children run with crumbly praises

spraying crumbs they ask for more.



In the laughter of God I cannot have it.

This shade stands back and waits for the day

when my Brother will fit my tent for it

till then I sit back and watch the bread play.


The wrecking bread and ruinous wine.



It will kill you if you spat at the table

It is more real , more good, more true.

It sits as solid as word and stable.

Your place is preserved with this in view


Welcome here at the Siege Perilous.

Sit. Your name is engraved in stone.

You do not threaten, steal, or devour

With bread so real, It can not be done.


Brothers sit down under Father’s eye

Serving a meal, passing the bread

Blood and body, bread and wine

And it will kill you, kill you dead.


As it gets everywhere, everywhere, everywhere


This grave has a back door swinging wide.

You can’t excuse yourself before He’s done

feeding you, readying you to work at his side.

It goes into you, and the race you must run.


Week in and week out, the meal is served

For first a thousand, then two thousand years,

All the world feasts on the bread undeserved,

From the grain crushed, beaten, and shirred.


Here at this table, you have heaven folded

In just a bite to three measures of life.

It works through your bones and your sinews remolded,

Carving you, carving you up with a knife.


As it gets everywhere, everywhere, everywhere.


Men with bad manners, smack their lips

and it echoes, sloshy and loud in our hall.

Children reach out, and take slurpy sips

Of the wine, poured for them, poured for us,

poured for all.


No condemnation here, none, leave it out.

Stop wiggling. Receive the gift handed to you.

Sit down. Chew the bread, crumbling about,

This is your dinner, no Accuser’s stew.


Supper is eaten in absolute silence,

That is the test of truly good food.

Starving, we share with our siblings around us

Filling our bodies, frail and rude.


And so he keeps feeding us, feeding us, feeding us.

The adamant bread. The sea deep wine.


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