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Is it even possible that I

Should partake of the flesh of my God

Or feast on the blood of my King?

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Is it even possible that I

Should be nourished in my Maker’s death

Or well by His last labored breath?

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Is it even possible that I

Should be whole because God was broken

Or live on the blood of His cross?

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Is it even possible that I

Should take my life’s sustenance from

From the crushing of my Sovereign?

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I approach this table with trembling

Reverence, awe, and holy fear – I come

My God, slain for me, bids me come

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So I come with this holy terror

He took my curse – I’m obligated

To eat His flesh and drink His blood

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For His command is holy true and just

I dare not disobey Him, so I

Come with thankfulness and trembling

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Copyright 2018 Raina Nightingale