His holy body wholly mixed
with these our bodies, and His pure
blood poured generously out
to fill our veins, His voice
now pulses in our ears,
and look! His lighted vision
pools within our eyes. All of Him
is mixed with all of us—
compassionate communion. And as
He loves His church His body
utterly, so He gives
it more than bread, more
even than bread from heaven
but His own, His
living bread for her to eat.
Wheat, the olive, and the grape—
these three—serve Your mystic union
in threefold manner.
Your bread became our strength,
Your wine our consolation.
Our faces were renewed,
illumined by the grace and
blessing of Your holy oil. For all
of this and more, Your body—
saved by Your abasement—
now unites in true thanksgiving.
And Death—the insatiable lion
who consumed us all—by You alone
its appetite was sated—by You alone
its hold has burst, and we
rise strengthened, comforted, luminous.
“The Living Bread” from Scott Cairns’
Endless Life: Poems of the Mystics