Grace and Peace to you.
Only when you’ve run out of wine,
the wine life gave you, the dark red wine
that flowed through your veins,
only when the merest drop
of plain water would be enough,
only when you have nothing
to offer, nothing to save you,
does the unseen mystery occur.
When you’ve tasted the wine of death,
had your last meal day after day,
each breath, each moment becomes
an improbable gift, a miracle.
When the wedding feast is silenced
and you ponder being without,
when you’ve drunk the cup of grief,
then every one is dear.
When you quit your purification
for what gives life, then something new
flows beyond measure or belief.
When you’ve given away your blood
red wine, the Guest will see
to it that you are given the best.
Then even the later music, more dark
than before, the more difficult music,
the treacherous passages, the slow dance
into the night, even the sorrowful songs,
the tragic laments, are beautiful.
Among the crushed grapes, the losses,
the fermented sugars, none of the flavors
can be separated out of the dark wed wine
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