Maniturgia

THE
MANITURGIA

Linen-wrapped hands
Cloth-wrapped in tomb
First signs of life
Wrapped in the womb.

Hidden, veiled,
Cloaked away
Sacredness
Gold in gray.

Bursting bright
From slate shroud cloud
Gilded sun
Brilliant, proud.

Fingers anointed
Then set free
As from her womb then tomb
For thee.

The Bread of Angels
From His wheat
Seeds sown deep
In loam and peat.

Forever his fingers
Consecrating
Hidden Jesus
Elevating.

The maniturgia,
Now tucked away
To wait for mother’s
Deathly day

When in my coffin,
Hopefully shrived,
My linen-wrapped hands
When I have died

Will reach out begging,
Though I am least,
Lord have mercy
My son’s a Priest!!