Silent sunlight
Glinting on the rays of purest gold,
Shining through the shadows there
Upon the simple wafer-disc
Which has brought nations, armies to their knees.
Beyond all thought,
Beyond mere words—but no mere words have I.
Grasping to behold the truth of things,
This simple thing,
Yet so beyond the thoughts of men;
Trying, striving, failing.
In it the universe turns inside-out.
The eyes and ears both lie;
The truth is grasped by one’s immortal soul.
Oh, flesh divine, that made all flesh divine!
Formed of wheat,
Yet not of wheat,
Sitting there in shadow and in light,
I speak, but do not speak.
What words?
The silence tells the story best of all.
Sunlight falling,
Dappling, rising,
And in it the wafer seems to pulse,
Like breathing,
In and out and in and out and in,
Like those sharp breaths drawn oh, so long ago,
When it was finished, finally, at last.
I sat there, and the empty space was still.
A woman came then, falling to the ground,
And on her knees she crawled forward to see,
Adoring, weeping, gazing past the gold,
In hope, perhaps, to see some speck of blood.
C.A. Shoultz is a poet, writer, critic, and essayist, currently residing in Dallas, Texas. He earned his Bachelor of Arts in Great Texts of the Western Tradition from Baylor University, and is currently studying for a Master of Arts in English Literature from the University of Dallas.