Grey…
All grey:
The tables, walls,
Even the chrome is dulled,
Faded,
Gone grey,
with daylight the colour of death.
Rigid as Sunday supper
I sit
At the grey table
Preparing the sacrament,
the resurgence of rebirth.
I lay the elements before me:
The knife, to cut, divide, separate;
The spoon, to hold and coddle split portions;
The candle, to heat, and bring life;
The needle, to carry the light;
The crystals, radiant with the promise of rainbows,
Incubus of God.