eucharistic memory
as in a landscape, lost to eyes unused to being found
travelling a wide, moist and blackened road;
beneath, the soil and stones lay with restless
resonance-
on either side grow a few trees and a few purveyors
of luxury
though they have never been lost, neither the
shopkeeps or the accidental trees.
do not seek aid of those stores, wandering pilgrim,
in time will come death or
new life
warm, clean rain will fall on those verdant trees
and that soil underfoot or
all around
will continue to cleave unto all,
that rain will be
our benediction,
euchari, euchari. benedictum sunt canticum
caelistis.