The Eucharist Now

The giants of the earth have forsaken God.

“Be on our side,” they cry to the wind. “Favor us.”

Heaven simply sends angels to bring forth the peace—

 

to herald a Son.  But where is the Eucharist now,

Whose welcoming star warmed the heart like the glow of a

candle-flame?  The earth is hellish-black.  And thunder rolls.

 

The fiery cross singes still-living flesh.  Each soldier

has been squashed to the earth like grapes with

opulent juices soiling the sand.   Each heart is

 

squashed and squeezed, then trampled—

whether  a man, woman, or child.  Each heart is bleeding,

bursting like crushed berries.

 

The giants grin, sit on Cadillac fenders.

They smoke fat cigars or carry signs that sometimes

read:  “REPENT.  THE END IS NEAR.”

 

first published in The Blueprint