and now–even now
when our mouths are filled
with flying words
from wrecked sacriledges
of open pages
we fast-
we dance-
at bloodless altars
in another name

WE
who are lost
beyond dreams
of our own presence
to cast and bind
mocking demons
at the religious presence
of our weekly absence

of mortals unseen
by spirits patterned paths
at void spaces
of mindful flesh and blood
whose nothing self
speaks in the volume
of naked sacredness
at the bloodless place
of strangled offerings

like a broken leaf-
like a nameless thing
caught in limboed winds

yet we bless
The Lord…always.

-Kenneth Christie-Atiti (c)2016