“Forgive, O Fire, forgive, O Light, the patent,
fraught impurity of we who thus presume
to open unclean lips, availing now
a portal for Your purity. Forgive
the chatter of our blithely fearless crowd
awaiting Your pure body pretty much
the way we stand in any fast-food queue,
considering our neighbors’ faults, puzzling
at those odd few who seem to shiver some
as they approach Your wound. Holy One, allow
that as we near the cup, before the coal
is set upon our trembling tongues, before
we blithely turn and walk again into
our many other failures, all that we
might glimpse, might apprehend something of the fear
with which we should attend this sacrifice,
for which – I gather – we shall never be prepared.”
(A psalm of Isaak in Idiot Psalms (New Poems) by Scott Cairns, p 82)
See also my blog Communion: A Gift Received Not Taken
Fraternized 