by Elder Gideon
A small loaf rests on a paten next
To the chalice wine reflects
A humble flame sways above
The table holds a candle like a
Byzantine angel the feet of
Tau isn’t always on the ground
Nor his hands as human hands
Nor his body so solid but
Sheer as a curtain slowly billows
In an open window breathes
Stained glass light passed through him
Shined upon the table bread & wine
He cast no shadow
This
My body
Broken for you
This
My blood
Poured out for you
Do this
In remembrance
Of me
When bread was broken his eyes opened
To his own dis- & reappearance
In the continuum where two or more
Are gathered there I am
Elder Gideon is the author of “Aegis of Waves” (Atmosphere Press, 2021) and co-author with Tau Malachi of “Gnosis of Guadalupe (EPS Press, 2017). His poems have appeared in dozens of journals. He’s an alumnus of the 2021 Community of Writers, directed by Brenda Hillman and showing sculpture this fall with Verge Gallery’s Open Studio Tour in Sacramento. A veteran English teacher-activist and leader of a gnostic tradition, Gideon lives from metaphysical urgency. Reach out to him @elder.gideon or eldergideon@gmail.com.
