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Holy Communion

This Lenten season comes with a call,

inviting me to make a free fall,

prostrating before the altar

and ceaselessly praying, hoping to alter

the stains and strains tainting my soul.

 

The body of Christ is what I eat

to gain the strength to walk on my feet,

commingling it with his blood in the brotherhood

and the believing sisterhood

of the saints ascending to Calvary.

 

I walk with Jesus the Nazarene,

to suffer, cry, fall, and rise to reign

with him on the day of resurrection,

after his dying on the day of his crucifixion

because of my faults and iniquities.

 

My sins led to his condemnation,

assuring him no acceptation

like a criminal on his day of execution

because of stealing the apothecary’s portion

and causing the death of the innocent.

 

It is to Jesus my savior that I come

to forever make a home

at the foot of his cross,

waiting not to be lost

and be denied the face of my creator.

 

The path of salvation

From the manger,

Jesus walked like a stranger,

teaching and preaching on the mount,

the lessons of life that on faith count.

 

Like Judas Iscariot who hissed,

betraying the messiah after he kissed

him, today I become a traitor,

hissing against but not kissing sin’s factor.

 

I’m breaking up my date,

following not the romance of fate

but dancing to win the kiss of faith,

worshipping my savior until my last breath.

 

In my imperfection,

I’m seeking purification

from Jesus who redeems all people and races,

infusing on us all the sufficient graces

 

to open our eyes, developing limbs

more than shrimps

without shrinking, recoiling

or flinching to the territory of sinning.

 

I’ll reverse,

somersaulting as I traverse

on the path of utter destruction,

and jumping to walk on the pathway of salvation.

 

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