Before this table small

its vast truth held in a cup

I pause, stilled at the gleam

of silver mirrored by manmade

stars, and cast my eyes on Godmade

we, who sup life, taking in the All who

is everywhere somehow contained,

yet bursting when broken, like these crumbs.

He has come that we might go

feeding those who hunger with our

shattered selves, blood-soaked truth

shining shards of glory that prove

His breaking is what makes us whole.

-J. L. Collins December 2016