last sunday morning

i don’t remember ever seeing the moon rise through red stained glass i don’t remember church ever being like this don’t remember the altar being so beautiful or kneeling this way even the words to the prayers are different even the words to the prayers are the words of God ringing in my head even the words of God never seemed so beautiful i don’t remember ever seeing the moon rise through bloodstained glass i don’t remember ever kneeling like this i don’t remember ever opening my mouth receiving communion feeling God like this i don’t remember the wine ever tasting so bitter-sweet so bitter and so sweet i don’t remember ever spilling the cup ever spilling the cup of this holy sacrament ~ and the whole world is an image of falling glass and wine reflected ~ i don’t remember ever seeing the moon shiver don’t remember ever seeing the moon reflected through bloodstained glass ~ i don’t remember ever seeing the candles burn so low reflecting ~ ~ in the living wood of the pew before me is carved your image your living image reflected ~ i don’t remember ever seeing the moon rise don’t remember ever seeing the moon like this ~ and i don’t remember ever seeing the moon as beautiful as this ~ as the invisible congregation rises to leave i feel a lingering to stay to step up to the alter beneath the jesus i saw you carve i place my finger in the still warm wax that the candle i lit made i place my finger in the wax and call your name call you to come back i call your name your name is the only prayer i’ve ever known the only prayer i can remember since i first met you since i first met you at this altar this altar that is bathed in the light of the moon the light of the moon that shines through the red stained glass the moon that shines through the blood stained glass above me the blood stained glass above me is the only thing i’ve ever known that’s beautiful since that beautiful Sunday morning that beautiful Sunday morning is the only day i remember all i ever remember is your image your living image carved in the wood in the living wood of the pew before me all i can see is the whole world all i can remember is the whole world is your image the whole world is your image carved in the wood of this pew before methis was written the day after i decided to end my year and a half vow of celibacy. Written July 11th, 2001 © on Jul 11 2001 05:59 AM PST   0 • 10