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,
that held His holy
meal, the body, the blood
stained by the spilt
wine, the dark
stain of His blood,
washing His blood
but not the memory,
the remembrance
of the blood that was
spilt, for us, preparing
pressing the white
fabric, folding, putting
it away, in its place
once more, for the next meal
washing His blood
from the white cloth
but not from our
hearts
====
edited August 2, 2014
Washing His Blood – v2
October 16, 2006 21:58
Washing His Blood
Wesley United Methodist Church
Concord, NH
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.
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