Communion (a poem by Photini)

the risen Christ
gifts Himself
to us
in the Mysteries
Lord's Day after Lord's Day
and each time
i am an infant,
struggling,
paper-winged
moth
too near the blazing light,
trusting
only
in His grace,
His mercy.

in the fear of God, and with faith and love draw near
...if you say so...

i tremble and my wings do not ignite
as they ought, but
are cupped
gently
to His breast
where weekly i am astonished
by the all-consuming Love
the Divine Heartbeat
the rhythm of my life in sacrament
as I flutter and cling
flutter
and
cling