2021.
Emptied communion cups dropped on the ground;
My garden tulips fade as the dawn breeze quickens,
Their petals opening out, about to fall,
Spilled like lost words, heavy with time and failed memories,
Dying yet nurturing a future still buried,
Next year in embryo.
2022.
Bulbs forcing pale shoots out into the light;
Communion cups transformed from green to bright gold,
New blossoms flourishing - a new era made manifest,
The air rich with the scents of wine and honey, the tang of
baked Matzah;
That which we thought dead now dazzles our senses.
Ancient prayers made true as we sing them this Easter,
The cries of an infant intermingling with them.
Old ways, long neglected, making new once more.
Trevor John Karsavin Potter.
21st. April 2022.
Written after studying the poem "Holy Communion" by George Herbert.
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