In a well appointed room
With the twelve,
He gathered.
They, lighting oil lamps,
Listening to crowds
In the street below,
as sunset burned
orange and purple
across an evening sky.
Laid out, upon this table,
fine linens and tapestries,
rich colors to delight
their eyes and honor this feast
of Passover.
He sat at their head,
They, at His hands and feet,
talking of their day,
Listening to music
Rising from streets below.
New wine
gleamed in its chalice,
scent of bitter herbs
filled up their nostrils.
Unleavened bread
steamed
with smoky  fragrance.
This was the feast of their fathers
a remembrance
of their deliverance
out of bondage.
Time to praise God .

He would begin with teachings
of the prophets.
They waited
watching Him.
His eyes locked in turn
with each one of them.
They could feel the power
of this man
they called teacher
master
friend.
He began…
Giving thanks
And breaking the bread
Take,  eat,
This is my body.
He raised the chalice
And gave thanks,
Drink from it…all of you.
For this is my blood
of the new covenant
Which is shed for many
For the remission of sins.
Never had they
heard Him speak this.
They listened in wonder
As he spoke of days to come
Bitter days
Days they could not fathom.
Their miraculous time
of  earthly communion
with Him
was coming to its end.

Copyright 1999 Clarey London/BR Lazo

tabletoftheheart@yahoo.com