Communion: I cannot eat crackers and drink grape juice with spiritual purpose

Everything freezes.  Implodes, folds in on itself, PAUSE> ...........................................

I should have gone. I should have stayed home. I should have not grumbled and complained. I should have baked a cake and sliced into 20 pieces to be equally shared as a secret communion with others, their unawares of it makes it even that much more sacred....like an experience of spiritual connection without anyone really even acknolwedging it---------a subtle twinkle inside each's bones, a small earthquake inside, that settles deep down within and lies there tucking itself into whtever bed it falls asleep on and says, "That was good night."

The body and the blood, "whenever you eat of the body, whenever you drink of the blood".  In such a way I pollinate my love in a physical way, and unnoticeable way, but a very very tangible real physical way.  I am do not particularly like human touch.....but the touching I feel is of utter importance. And the physical touching that I pour into the batter as I stir and sift and whisk and pour and slice and frost and serve is extracted from that Body and the touch from mine has been consumed by someone who now partakes in me.  And just as the body needs the blood, so does the bread need the wine, or chocolate stout cake or a raspberry almond torte need the Sauvignon or a Guinness. 


to be continued....