Gena St. David
In times like these
we catch a glimpse of ourselves
in the full-length
mirror of our humanity
Exposed as warm-blooded
the body of Christ,
woundable
at the mercy of the elements and each other
We,
the sinkable,
brought low by forms
of the very same water
in which we were baptized
And we,
who rise up to receive
the sign of death
in the ink of all
that we have lost
We bow in deference
to ashes and ice;
we remove our shoes
and curl inward
The body
of the Beloved,
a warming center,
with a candle in both hands
and a cup
in the other.
