We Gather Poem by James Tipp

So we gather to remember, but the bleak midwinter has remained elusive.
Instead the garden is alive with bursting life, bulbs in seasonal confusion.
An apt reminder that in life there are few certainties no real conformity.
This meal however has a past, a sameness passed from generation to generation.
Consumed in many and various tradition and ways and differing climates.
Its genesis an upper room in the city called peace, it recalls a life of service
A life of sacrifice and grace and mercy, a life filled with compassion
So a simple meal of bread and wine, that speaks of greater things a divine plan
So here in this small room break bread sip wine and pray for family the world
This Christmas celebration a family affair the eve tide meal of expectation.

(c) J Tipp 2015