Before the Blessed Sacrament

A church near me has regular exposition (adoration) of the Blessed Sacrament.  What a priceless gift, available to all, for free.  If there is a cost to this sacred space, it is our time…


I gaze upon the glass encased host,

The cruel passion’d gift of ‘God with me’.

I babble words amid jumbled thoughts,

Struggling to still and wait quietly.


I, chanting, voice ‘my Lord and my God’;

Best love-mantra of my needing heart.

A physical ache to feel His healing love,

Yet distractions waylay from the start.


Annoyance at such hinders the more,

As I spiral off in sin-reaped dwam.

Betimes I catch myself to refocus,

But inconsistency is all I ever can.


A decade of the rosary may ever help,

To settle and centre my harried soul.

A percher on the periphery of life’s force,

Self-exiled from Him who makes me whole.


Ah Lord, You watch with father’s warmth,

My stumbling, bumbling, paltriness.

I am more versed in gossip’s rhythm,

Than practised in reverent stillness.


A Muslim, upon hearing the Catholic belief,

That God might be present in the sanctuary,

Declared he would crawl in and crawl out,

In awed submission and prone humility.


I gaze upon the One who gazes me with

Unconditional love from monstrance shown.

It is Your invite and not my initiative,

That finds me here before Your altar throne.


Time spent here is priceless vital grace,

Transforming my inner God-imaged core,

Nourishing my gradual’d Christfullness,

That I might build Kingdom all the more.