Anaphora

“Poignantly Poetic” is the section of the blog devoted to the promotion and curation of poetry. Anglicanism has a long, rich history of poetry, far beyond the development of the Psalter and Book of Common Prayer. This new series seeks to offer a platform for Christian poets interested in sharing their work.

A poem by Jacob Graudin

The sun already risen, still I wait towards the east,
My mouth mumbles a liturgy mixed up with other forms.
In retrograde, my memory anticipates the feast.

My eyes have trouble focusing; I could have used more sleep.
My knees are quickly soring on the rigid kneeler-board.
The sun already risen, still I wait towards the east.

Again, I hear the beckon, ‘in remembrance of me,’
And in a mass I see the broken cup, the bread outpoured.
In retrograde, my memory anticipates the feast.

Then I remember forward, joined to those surrounding me:
All history sinistroversely read, Semitic lore.
The sun already risen, still we wait towards the east.

This world resounds: the elements converge upon one Priest,
Whose cupping hands communicate these gifts to be reborn.
In retrograde, our memory anticipates the feast.

Real presence of the grape and grain, we taste and then we see.
Our hopes renewed, our ears unstopped, we listen for the door.
The sun already risen, still we wait towards the east,
In retrograde, our memory anticipates the feast.

Jacob Graudin is a layman in the Anglican Church of North America and worships with his wife at Christ Church Anglican in South Bend, Indiana. Originally hailing from Charleston, SC, where he grew up and worked in the Episcopal Diocese, he is dedicated to discovering and expressing the fullness of beauty in the doctrine, liturgy, and art of the Anglican tradition.