Catechism

i observe
and for ONCE
do nothing.

it's heavenly.

apparently, heaven agrees
because the sickle moon madonna
opens her skirts and manna floats down.

it's cold
and disappears on my tongue.

i don't mind.
i can have seconds if i want.

life is suddenly reverent.

even the old trees
stretch out arthritic branches
to partake in the feast.

for a moment
the world is hushed
and still.

and we wear white veils
in the presence of something holy.