Volume > Issue > Prayer after Communion

Prayer after Communion

A POEM

By Tom Noe | November 1983

Body, flesh and blood, feeling.

I have been here before, kneeling

in the snow, in dead-white zero.

This is a form I’ve touched before

and adored — a cooled cup,

a pool of liquid mahogany, a supper of the death of God.

Tensed for the tuggings of love,

I feel my way back, shivering,

past all the unnerving, icy touches.

Pew and kneeler hug me suddenly in confusion,

though they have seen me here before,

and all the while

the tiny glory of God

warms like an ember down within.

Autobiography of a Creature from Deep Heaven

I was the spark

who lit the face of God

when he flicked his rod

…

When Angels Danced

When angels danced on heads of pins

The ways of men were means not ends;

…

Boardwalk Fortune Teller

Borne up by priestly hands beyond the dark

The clean oblation of the harvest moon

…