Chris Lee Hodges Ministries

Poisoned Fruit I Lay on Death’s Hearth
— Chris Lee Hodges





I stand amazed at the presence
    of my nothingness in the
    site of a wafer. 

You are my Host, oh Holy Ghost!

Bleeding Bread, crush my Ego
     as I kneel at my post.

(“If I stretch out my arms as wide as yours, can I take your people into my own heart?”)

(“Nay.  Your skin would burst from the Poison Fruit lodged in your throat when you died on the First Man’s broken hearth.”)

—-

The wafer lowers toward
    your table and I sit with Judas as I cry with
    Peter.

Almighty, I confess for I am so much less.

(“I am not worthy of the blood in this bread I profess.”)

(“Come home, my child. It is your soul that with My blood I bless.”)