Man of the Cloth

 

Don’t have to do anything:

Try to create it;

Try to fabricate it;

Try to feel it.

Distractions, like startled quail in the bush,

Fly out of nowhere but

The reality still exists.

Like the wetness of a rain shower,

Regardless the fabric of an umbrella, 

What an ordained 

Man of the cloth elevates

Is Emmanuel, God with us;

Now among us 

In body, soul, 

And divinity;

Now glorified.

A real, actual presence 

On our altars,

In our patens 

And chalices;

Body and blood:

Commanded to be taken and eaten.

Gary Edward Geraci