Taste and See

A tumble of dancing memories,
Bits of yesterday on parade,
Inscribe their indelible signatures
Upon the pink pavement.
Those early childhood mornings;
That first hunt; Daddy holding the hook,
And I the worm; sore fingers
Shelling peas picked, plucked
Fresh from Grandmother’s garden.

Chewing and eating is time well-tasted;
Every morsel a moment, bittersweet.
Each meal a memorial, a eucharist.
Do this in remembrance. Past and future
Collapse into the mystical present.
Eternity, playing host, lays the feast;
Banquet of fat things,
Toast of wine well-refined,
Poured from grapes not yet planted,
Drawn from cellars as of yet unbuilt.

Zigzag bones do their strange work
Of deep magic; pulverizing death,
Breaking the mortal remains in pieces
Until death is swallowed up by life
And living. The former things
Pass away. Behold! All that was
Is new again.

J. Brandon Meeks

J. Brandon Meeks is a writer, studio musician, and Christian scholar. He serves his local parish as Theologian-in-Residence. He received his PhD. from the University of Aberdeen, Scotland. He is also a fan of Alabama football, the blues, and cheese. He blogs regularly at www.highchurchpuritan.com.

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