” This Bread is Light” Malcolm Guite

This bread is light, dissolving, almost air, A little visitation on my tongue, A wafer-thin sensation, hardly there. This taste of wine is brief in flavour, flung A moment to the palate’s roof and fled, Even its aftertaste a memory. Yet this is how He comes. Through wine and bread Love chooses to be emptied…

A poem for Corpus Christi by Malcolm Guite

The centuries have settled on this table Deepened the grain beneath a deep white cloth Which bears afresh our changing elements. Year after year of prayer, in hope and trouble, Were poured out here and blessed and broken, both In aching absence and in absent presence. This table too the earth herself has given And…