"Love is not blind; that is the last thing that it is.
Love is bound; and the more it is bound
the less it is blind." - G.K. Chesterton
Love's Choice
a sonnet for Corpus Christi
by Malcom Guite
This bread is light, dissolving, almost air,
A little visitation on my tongue,
A wafer-thin sensation, hardly there.
This taste of wine is brief in flavour, flung
A moment to the palate's roof and fled,
Even its aftertaste a memory.
Yet this is how He comes. Through wine and bread
Love chooses to be emptied into me.
He does not come in unimagined light
Too bright to be denied, too absolute
For consciousness, too strong for sight,
Leaving the seer blind, the poet mute;
Chooses instead to seep into each sense,
To dye himself into experience.
_____________
Published in Sounding the Seasons,
a cycle of seventy sonnets for the Church Year.
Photo: Gordonphoto/Shutterstock
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