Monday, October 16, 2006

Washing His Blood

In the little room, off the sanctuary,
the space where worship supplies
were kept, a stack of white linen
tablecloths, communion cloths
that once covered His table,
held his holy meal, the body, the blood
stained by the spilt wine, the dark
stain of his blood, washing his blood
pressing the white fabric, folding, putting
it away, in its place once more
washing His blood from the white cloth
but not from our hearts


October 16, 2006 21:58



All of my poems are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014. All rights reserved. Contact me at Ray Foss for usage. See all 31,480+ of my poems at www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com Poetry Where You Live.

1 comment:

Renee Wagemans said...

This is so beautiful, thanks for sharing
Renee