Healing Script part 4: Sweat Wine

Wine like everything has a shadow and light side, parish church, Syria

Bread and wine were coming round.
One is supposed to take a small sip.
Despite my dislike for wine I was ready to knock back the entire goblet .
For maybe it could make me see things in a different light,
Maybe it could change shadow.

I managed to get a good mouth full.
Enjoying every drop,
Swallowing little by little.
Then I choked and was forced to gulp down the rest.
Oh Damn!

The priest was his boisterous chatty self that night.
He tends to ask people personal questions during mass
Expecting answers for all to hear.
My sulky behaviour made me a potential target,
But the end of mass came to the rescue.
People left for the terrace where supper was being served.

I remained in the sacred space,
To be with myself, my raging fever,
Undisturbed, comforted by darkness.
Secretly I was hoping for an intervention by
A force more powerful than I,
That could pry open the slightest jar in my heart,
Unlocking compassion.
Compassion for self.