Improbable Blessings

After the Eucharist, the clean
up, every plastic cup consigned
to the trash, pottery chalice
and plate rinsed in the sink.

I take the bread to the butterfly
garden. I tear scraps
of unleavened rounds into crumbs
which I scatter across the ground.

The children delight in pouring
the undrunk but consecrated
wine into the flowers, where it drips
down to the soil below.

I imagine caterpillars drunk
on God’s love made visible
in sacrament, birds pecking
in the dirt, surprised
to find a blessing,
bushes bursting with blooms
in improbable colors.


Inspired by Dave Bonta’s “Inner city” and Luisa A. Igloria’s “What can you do with day old bread?

2 Comments


  1. Your post gave me a boost. I felt restless, now I see the Imprbable Blessing in more things.

    Reply

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