Sunday, April 01, 2007


My wine is bitter,
like His sacrifice for me.

He drank His cup
of love.
I grimace and swallow.

Burning as it goes
penetrating all parts,
or so it feels.

Did His tears burn
as He prayed;
His friends asleep
as they kept their watch?

Hiding in the soul
waiting to grow
like a spirit weed:
bitterness. Take heed
lest His gift be laid aside
and forgotten.

He loved and was obedient.
He wept, then was kissed.
He gave all for me.

He drank His cup,
then turns to offer
me a drink from His sacrifice.
I take it gladly.
(as gladly as He?)

Gladly and drink.

It slides through my soul
and all bitterness is
by His love.


Unknown said...

Larinda did you write this? It is beautiful! Happy Easter!

larin said...

Yes, I did. On Palm Sunday as I took my own communion at home while listening to my church do it on the internet. Years ago one of my Bible study leaders talked about how her family would sometimes take communion at home on New Year's or for other special occasions. So I dug out the unleavend bread (crackers) and the wine (ugh) and thanked Jesus for His gift. I'm glad you like it. Your words mean a lot to me. :-) --LaRinda