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