The Liturgy of the Eucharist
The Body and the Blood
nourish our praise
with the undying love
of the Ancient of Days;
there is fullness and feast
at the table of psalm
and those who have tasted
have known heaven's calm,
for love is the feast,
so sweet on the tongue,
and echoes within
like songs prayed and sung.
With ardor the heart
is thus burned in a flame,
a coal to the lips
and God's holy name,
an offering thus raised
of a spiritual kind,
more inward and noble,
on the altars of mind.
And the Priest is the Lamb
in self-sacrifice raised,
and we are the Lamb,
thus worthy to be praised;
and the Lamb is the Angel
carrying prayers on high
to the throne-room of God
where the martyr-saints sigh.
There the Lamb, our High Priest,
offers the Lamb-sacrifice
to the Throne and the Lamb
whose blood pays our price.
And below we all feast
on abundance of prayer
and draw near the Throne
as children may dare.
Coyote
Each nation has a god
that sums its thought,
that whispers in its ear
for good or ill
and gives it force of will
for right or wrong.
And once I saw afar,
beneath a desert star,
the god of our America;
his throated song
rang out long
and brightly,
his amber eyes
looked up to desert skies
in mournful dream.
Coyote is his name,
His form the same;
his pad is soft.
Trickster god is he,
untrustworthy but free,
never what he seems;
and in his eyes
the spark of new surprise
works mischief.
