04-06-2023, 12:52 PM
The first time I partook
of the Divine Liturgy, I felt
like I was coming home.
I had only heard the songs,
seen the blue and gold
in still pictures, felt the warmth
of candles or enjoyed
the smoke of incense
separately, in other contexts,
and right there, in the half-light
of an hour past dawn,
it all came together.
I was not allowed, back then, to partake
of the culmination, though the final sense
did not leave deprived:
after the blessing, I was given
the sweetest slice of bread
I'd ever tasted, followed by a cup
of coffee and a thorough
but enthusiastic
conversation. I was home.
of the Divine Liturgy, I felt
like I was coming home.
I had only heard the songs,
seen the blue and gold
in still pictures, felt the warmth
of candles or enjoyed
the smoke of incense
separately, in other contexts,
and right there, in the half-light
of an hour past dawn,
it all came together.
I was not allowed, back then, to partake
of the culmination, though the final sense
did not leave deprived:
after the blessing, I was given
the sweetest slice of bread
I'd ever tasted, followed by a cup
of coffee and a thorough
but enthusiastic
conversation. I was home.