Daily Bred

The glory of the Catholic mass
Remains transubstantiation.

It's not that a wafer transforms
On the tongue of each devotee

Into literal flesh of God,
Impressive belief though that is.

It's that the extravagant claim
Specific to one miracle

Is, in the general sense, true.
All I can ever know or be

Is pure transubstantiation,
Not from one thing to another

Nor from a baked good to a god,
But to transubstantiation.

Nothing of me exists except
This perpetual in between,

Miracle of incompletion,
Incompletion the miracle,

Repeatable as morning mass,
Mutable as orthodoxy,

World always becoming nothing
Like a substantive conviction.