transubstantiation ovenbird The dream Raven holds a cube of bread delicately in his beak, a wild Eucharist. He brings to mind the priest who held a spoon above my open mouth, pouring in hard bread soaked in wine to cleanse my sins through holy cannibalism. Me: a baby bird in supplication. Him: a robed authority dispensing judgment on my soul. But the Raven is beyond ascribing worth to a life as small as mine. The bread falls from his beak and he lifts his head, his eyes ghosting as the nictitating membrane passes over them and makes him a prophet. I place the bread on my tongue: Body of Earth Body of Sky Body of Life Amen 250429 what's it to you? who go blather from