A Year of Seeing: April 30: “Real Presence”

Real Presence

 

Two small squirrels leapt off the trunk

of the maple tree and ran through the grass.

I could not tell if they were barking or laughing,

but they meant what they were saying.

I keep trying to stand still and wait for

what is to be to come into view. When? 

 

At first I felt as though I needed

to work on new tasks, a way of being

a priest among the people whom I love,

but now I can glimpse that perhaps

these days are a subtraction of things unnecessary.

Can I see my reflection in a raindrop?

 

My soul somehow feels more nimble,

resting in a realness I knew–sometimes–but that was 

often shaded from the eye of my heart.

These days the barnacles are being scraped off the

hull of the ship so that it can glide more smoothly

on waters that are often choppy.  Now?

 

It seems odd that we squabble

over the tiniest details of whether

Christ is present in bread and wine, and how, 

when the answer is so clear

as the sun reflects off the ripples in the lake

and the heron steps slowly forward. 

 

SH 4/28/2020