Maundy Thursday

a holy week sonnet

I sit at my dining room table,
And the smell of fresh bread fills my nose.
The joy here is steady and stable
As the work of the day comes to a close.

The wine in my glass is dark and red,
And now I lead us in prayer,
Blessing the fare we are fed;
For God has deigned with us to share

This feast. But very best of all
Are those who sit to eat with me
And laugh with me and simply be free
With me where there is no bitter gall.

But yours, O Christ, was a sadder sup --
Your body the bread, your blood in the cup.