face of God

Candles flicker in darkness.
I stand before the altar
and raise unleavened bread
awaiting His transformation
my heart hungry for grace.
Cold winds rise, I drop bread
not Christ, upon the floor.
God's black stare dissolves me.
Within the infinite mind
a flat galaxy rotates
paved with cathedral steeples
prayer towers, domes, minarets
scarcely reaching into the
unknowable alien
breathing forth universes.
A star appears overhead
lights my way back to the world.

Scott Speck
11/16/98