O golden doors now open wide
Revealing myst’ry’s grace,
The grace beyond the imaged word;
Beyond all time and space.
The doors swing open every time The Offering
We leave the realm of things
To enter silent emptiness
And touch what leaving brings.
With Eucharistic thankfulness The Great Thanksgiving
We join the cosmic song
Of atoms and of starlit skies;
The space where we belong.
We move into the mystic space The Fraction
Within the Cross of pain,
To find each cross becomes a seed
Which bears life-giving grain.
As bread of life becomes our feast The Feasting
Grief’s wine is turned to praise
And death and resurrection’s ways
Form templates for our days.
Text © William Livingstone Wallace
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