Stained (poem)

In the middle of communion,
A friend showed my his palm
Stained with grape juice
Dark like blood,
As if his hand were pierced.
He embraced me and whispered,
"Praise Jesus."

Praise Jesus whose hands,
Feet,
Side
Were pierced,
Were stained.

Praise Jesus whose hands
Probably looked more like my friend's —
Dark and brown —
Than mine —
Pale and pink.

"Praise Jesus."

Praise Jesus whose blood
Runs the same color as ours.

Praise Jesus whose blood
Covers every sin,
Washes every stain,
Heals every wound,
Makes us all kind.

Praise Jesus whose blood
Looks just the same
On every stained palm.