The Gift

I learned that butchering purity is ungodly,
yet on the silver platter, I see a snow lamb as fired slabs.

I cut it, the meat that once stood with sentience.
It is the price of being the Gift of God: to perform His Act.
She never wished to be an actress, but His Book binds her.
(We do not question the path He has laid 
for them to fear and for us to desire.)

When we sit at the table for supper, we are thankful
to eat the holy prey we pray for.