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Processione Eucharistico
During our stay in Italy, my family and I had the delight of participating in a small town’s Eucharistic procession.
Back in our more-Protestant America, such bodily expressions of faith are few and far between. This profound enactment of belief, of prayer, of linking Love to the specific needs and concerns of people in place showed me the pride involved in keeping faith ‘merely spiritual’. Such ‘virtual faith’ does not communicate Christ, because it speaks only to the intellect of a few who get abstractions. The rest of us so need to see the Cross lifted, to be asked to follow – humbly and physically – Our Lord, to smell a beautiful fragrance that is best-released by crushing. This poem was actually written as we processed behind the Blessed Sacrament.
Processione Eucharistico
Rose petals dropped along the path of the procession,
Christ is suffered to be borne and lifted up
before His followers, so to claim this sleepy place.
Around the neighborhood we bear
our precious Gift and pray.
The city unto which He called us
calls to Him, and we
thus through embodiment’s ordeal
are strewn as roses here.
Where Love once walked now lovers step
in unity behind their Lord.
The scent of flowers crushed underfoot
ascends as pain becomes a prayer;
our lives a living path to Christ,
as beauty bruised remarks the Way.
All the poems are now in one volume, and I’d love for you to have a copy! Click on the cover to buy it, and click here for the recordings of all the poems.
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