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Christ is with us,
The Risen Christ
During each Liturgy, He is here in the altar,
in all the light
of His divinity
Tremble, all you people!

It is not a thought,
it is not longing
it is heaven descended upon earth,
with more angels than stars
surrounding Him
O crystals
thoroughly flooded
O roar of wings
unheard!

Behold, we are blind, we are deaf,
hearts are made of tar
—the stone of the Church is holy and sings seeing Him
the table, the grave encompasses Him
O frightful sight.

And we do not know it, we remember
our days as if they were shards of glass,
our fears
and we do not know it.

The myrrh is His overflowing Name,
flooding the universe
and we
do not know it.

Be theophoric
be Christophoric
hold Him, hold Him in your heart
as you hold the Pascha candle
between
your palms!

He is the Air,
He is the Life,
He is the Blood,
deifying us.
He wants
Everyone to be
akin to Him.

Fear, O hearts of men,
tremble, O hearts of angels,
He calls us,
us,
those who crucified Him!

Every Sunday is Pascha
Oh, if only we would take Him home
Kindled light,
in the heart of hearts,
above the depths!
Won’t we be worthy of hell,
as His blood was shed for us,
again and again He crucified Himself,
in all the Liturgies of the year…
and we did not want Him
and we did not believe Him
and we did not follow Him
and we did not want to be
without death?
The heavens open before us
and the flood of rays comes
and God comes
like dew
              in the chalice!

Daniel Turcea