Maundy

what i remember
is all the old stories
from all the dark gospels
found out in the deserts
and whispered from mouth to ear
gnostic to gnostic
when I eat this bread
and drink this cup
on sunday morning
none of these distinctions-- we have been taught distinctions--
mean anything to me
there i no creed
there is no need for anything
but knowledge
and the scent of flowers on her scarf
and the memory of those who love you
and do you remember that night
when the air was balmy
jesus dancing in the garden
in a ring
and they sing and hold the torches
and the light shines on him
he is beautiful like Tiferet
like the bridegroom
in a column of smoke
and i can see him dancing
tears of joy
outweigh the fear
and a voice that whispers
sweetly
as the nails fix him
to that tree
six gold fruits dripping blood:
--He who drinks from my mouth
will be me--