Communion

Flowers of ice
embroider frozen streets
on the way to the dark cathedral;
my breath rises heavenward
and I follow it
with the luminous eyes
of a great eagle in flight;
it’s heart beating in my breast
as I consume Creation’s wafer
of love and doom.

Small sins of my fifteen years
weigh on my soul—
dread that I will not awaken
when snow flowers rise up
from frosted graves to bloom
at the Resurrection—
but my longing to dwell forever
in skies where shadows
of love and death
form a single seam,
brings eternal forgiveness.