Communion Mountain

A Poem by Alexis Ragan

…and it shall be lifted up above the hills; and peoples shall flow to it — Micah 4:1

She rises well before dawn

to collect dew where the LORD dwells

in soft places, somewhere on fertile

ground where misted fields, splayed

out in early splendor, show signs

of spring feast for the redeemed. 

Basket in hand, she pours her gaze 

upwards towards the Beautiful One, 

“What shall I pick for Your table?”

and blushes to adorn the sweetest meal

of the season, gently bending down

to pluck freshly born poppies, careful not 

to crush the golden petals now beaming 

forth from the premature winter stage, 

and baby breath, as white as the wool 

of her Shepherd’s coat.

Come, let us go up to the mountain of the LORD,

She can hear the body hum in the village, 

for they too, hungry in heart, have begun 

to gather for traveling back to the all-sufficient

supper, in a burst of weeping & thanks —

Up she floats in her best dinner dress, 

through the clouded, candlelit valley, 

where bread that holds life and the wine

of His waterfall wait in the folds of 

Communion Mountain.