by Maura H. Harrison
Ekphrastic poem about the sanctuary at
St. Mary of the Immaculate Conception Church, Fredericksburg, VA
Jesus is on the cross. He’s still alive.
His eyes—half closed—survey the church, and to
His pain small crying babies add their song.
The penitent line up for contra dance
and lay their prayers, like palms, along His path.
With vinegar and hyssop (cheapest wine
And lowest shrub) we come into his presence.
He takes our lesser things and makes them new.
Here, in this church, Christ’s countenance contains
A lengthening exhale, the knowing sigh
That all has been accomplished. “Thirst, I thirst
For you” is what you see and hear and feel.
And looking up, we come with wine and gall,
repenting tears collected over forty
examined days with desert sticks. He knows,
and takes a sip from sponge upon our hyssop.