i don’t remember
ever seeing
the moon rise
through red stained glass
i don’t remember
church
ever being like this
don’t remember
the altar
being so beautiful
or kneeling this way
even the words
to the prayers
are different
even the words
to the prayers
are the words of God
ringing
in my head
even the words of God
never seemed
so beautiful

i don’t remember
ever seeing
the moon rise
through bloodstained glass
i don’t remember
ever kneeling like this
i don’t remember
ever opening my mouth
receiving communion
feeling God
like this
i don’t remember
the wine ever tasting
so bitter-sweet
so bitter
and so sweet
i don’t remember
ever spilling
the cup
ever spilling
the cup
of this holy sacrament

~ and the whole world
is an image
of falling glass
and wine
reflected
~ i don’t remember
ever seeing
the moon shiver
don’t remember
ever seeing
the moon reflected
through bloodstained glass ~
i don’t remember
ever seeing
the candles burn
so low
reflecting ~

~ in the living wood
of the pew before me
is carved your image
your living image
reflected
~ i don’t remember
ever seeing
the moon rise
don’t remember
ever seeing
the moon like
this ~
and i don’t remember
ever seeing
the moon
as beautiful
as this ~

as the invisible congregation rises to leave i feel a lingering to stay to step up to the alter beneath the jesus i saw you carve i place my finger in the still warm wax that the candle i lit made i place my finger in the wax and call your name call you to come back i call your name your name is the only prayer i’ve ever known the only prayer i can remember since i first met you since i first met you at this altar this altar that is bathed in the light of the moon the light of the moon that shines through the red stained glass the moon that shines through the blood stained glass above me the blood stained glass above me is the only thing i’ve ever known that’s beautiful since that beautiful Sunday morning that beautiful Sunday morning is the only day i remember all i ever remember is your image your living image carved in the wood in the living wood of the pew before me all i can see is the whole world all i can remember is the whole world is your image the whole world is your image carved in the wood of this pew before me
{Published in the "Eyrie" literary magazine, Tallahassee Community College, 2001}

09/26/2001

Author's Note: In cathedrals, even whispered prayers echo.

Posted on 09/26/2001
Copyright © 2024 Richard Paez