The Fly

The Fly

Cole Hartin

In the dewy quiet of mattins
I watched a fly skitter across
the breast of the resurrected Lord.
The sun shone through
his stained-glass skin,
casting the small insect in silhouette.

I got to thinking then
of the flies on dusty Golgotha
partaking of the body
and blood of Christ
(the doctrine of transubstantiation can be
set aside for now).
Here the basest of creation is drawn to
the sickly splatter, warm blood salted
with sweat and fear.

Now I know that it is true:
The heavenly Father feeds the
sparrows while the
thick swarms of Cyclorrhapha
sup on the Son.

This dusky Eucharist is a testament
to his depths of love.

---

Cole Hartin
Writer & Priest

Cole is an Anglican priest serving in Saint John, New Brunswick with a PhD in theological studies from Wycliffe College. His non-academic writing has been published by The Living Church, Christianity Today, Front Porch Republic, and The Huffington Post.

Photography by Emre