The Communion of Saints

A thousand miles away
You're still warm.

And with lungs breathing
Magical holy air,
You are broken but a strand of
Hope still flows through your veins.

Here I do not stoop to judge,
But rise
To take hold of
The unspeakable, untouchable,
And all that is counted nothing,
To draw you in, deeper,
To this communion of saints.

Here I shared the wine
And took your confusion,
Held your shame.
Your suffering is mine,
I feel your waiting,
I'm bearing your pain.
Here I reaffirm
The communion of saints.