"The world breaks every one and afterward many are strong at the broken places. But those that will not break it kills. It kills the very good and the very gentle and the very brave impartially. If you are none of these you can be sure it will kill you too but there will be no special hurry."
~ Ernest Hemingway, A Farewell To Arms



"Our lives disconnect and reconnect, we move on, and later we may touch one another, again bounce away. This is the felt shape of a human life, neither simply linear nor wholly disjunctive nor endlessly bifurcating, but rather this bouncey sequence of bumping into's and tumblings apart."
~ Salman Rushdie, The Ground Beneath Her Feet



Sunday, December 19, 2010

Eucharist...

Eucharist
Emptied, poured out.
Nothing left, deflated, defeated.
Paralysis in giving, in living.

How am I to be filled?
How am I to live?
"I am, I said,
To no one there,
And no one heard,
Not even the chair,
I am, I said."

Poured out like an offering,
A goblet of wine,
Spilled on the offering table.
An emptied chalice,
Bleeding and bled for humanity,
All humanity, the Imago Dei.

The children of Abraham,
Blessed for anothers faith,
Loved for being,
Alive for living,
Filled by grace.
Eucharist
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