Remember

Every week we walk to the front
to Remember how the blood poured out.
We take the cup and lap it up
to the last warming drop.
But this week you reached for Grace
with jerky hand and juice spilled down
your dress upon the floor.
For a moment there was a commotion
of paper towels and quick fingers
whisking mess away.
And your eyes looked down and back
and you forgot that we were there for Grace.
Your knees dropped to the floor as you
buried your face in my quiet whispers.
But kneeling renewed your strength,
they brought you another cup,
and together we took communion kneeling.