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Through the chanting canticle, so sang the priest,Musically, reverberating through the church.I felt the hovering dove through the organ’s feast —A blessing he alighted into my heart’s alert.

For the twelve, perhaps it was for them like Canna,Where Christ transmogrified the water into wine.The Spirit swooped, with wings adrift, like gift of manna,The dove, where Jesus’ righteousness was recognized.

When Christ knelt down in river’s rippling way,Unsure, John immersed his Lord from Galilee.So in the Upper Room, they felt the dove renameHis cooing warbles, transforming mysteries to heed.

Gruesome was the blood, from wound our Savior splayedAllowing us the dove’s assurance with His faith.

Sunday, February 18, 2024

1 Corinthians 10:16

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Poems by Gerry Sütter

Episodes

The Dove