XVII
HOST

White Host from the wheat that grows
in the desert, ground by the tooth
of pain that crushes; divine bread
of wheat flour, as white as milk,
Host, you are the Son of the black earth;
you are the Son of earth, the Son of Man,
the Son of God and the Virgin Mother,
our mother, the earth. We mortals
wander through the earth like stalks of corn
until the sickle of death harvests us;
the harrow converts what was yesterday
a field for sports into a threshing floor;
we go into the hopper, and from that flour
God kneads His bread which lives as men,
the one bread which is us, your disciples.           1 Corinthians 10:17.

It lives in You, Host white as milk,
born of the Virgin Mother Earth;
through you God is one with His mortals;
earth and water of God are bread and wine
of men, and through them God becomes man.
Your cross was like a bowl in which
the hands of your Father kneaded our bread.