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 firstname.lastname@example.org.