Sunday, 14 December 2014

The Eucharistic Lord; a Poem.

When you come to me with the mask on
you don't see me. Vision tinted.
You are my people and I am your God.
Don't be the people of the book 
I became the Word made flesh
in order that mortal men could dare to look
upon my face...see their faith?
Who do people say that I am?
I am that am, yes, all that is
yet not contained or divided
Who am I?
oh, nothing in particular
Brother? King? Saviour? or Son?
Look, I'm just here to love each one.
Just look at me while I look to you
That gurt commission ensues

No comments:

Post a Comment