Poet’s Pad: The Last Supper

LastSupper

The Last Supper

Who, I ask, shall take
the grail?

Wrap your hands around
its bulbous torso.

Drink deep from
its open cap,

feel its innards slide
into your own,

while knowing you give
up so much
and gain

everything intangible

but I see,
the fear sticks
in your throats
swelling, pulsing, choking

Do you not wish to breathe
of eternity, of peace, and compassion?

Perhaps you prefer
material meanderings.

I urge you taste,

for I dissipate the false
and reveal all truth.

By Terence Stone ©2013 

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Chief Editor and Founder of Urban Spiritual, I’m a classically trained singer and actor living in New York City, who has performed in the U.S. and Europe. I’m also a writer, traveller, meditator, arts-lover, and well-being enthusiast.

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