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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