Lawrence Hall, HSG
Mhall46184@aol.com

                         We Don’t Understand, But We Hope

We don’t understand it, but we hope in it
The change from that which is to that which isn’t
Or is the change back again and no change at all
Which maybe means the blood and pain remain

We recline in a rented banquet room
We follow in fear along a narrow street
We watch in horror upon a death-haunted hill
We are called to an empty tomb which isn’t empty

We are called to a dented Cup which also isn’t empty
(Maybe $200 at the church supply store)
Cradling a Mystery from before time
A plate of bread that looks like bread but isn’t

The Altar is where the arc of history bends

Mystery

Who among the servers did the dishes
And did she accidentally drop a Cup?

(That part is probably not important)