Sonnet on the Eucharist by Karise Gililland

How is it that the bread, when broken thus,
Creates a cryptic chasm of cracked crumb,
Unveils victorious Christ in kneaded crust
Puzzle solved in all the pieces summed

The wine is poured, and it was poured before
In rivulets unchecked, and tasted by
Thirsty skin, puddled there in ev’ry pore
Toasts this Man’s last meal, first born to die

How does this something broken keep, intact,
The Body doomed by man’s starv’d break with God,
This meal made of the Man who broke sin’s fast
Roll’d stone, struck skin, blood pooled, yet risen Word?

The tomb was table laid, that all men fed-
Now whole, we people made from broken bread.

image by Tom Darin Liskey

 

 


44401456_1954565297963685_2465982320838967296_nKarise Gililland has a  BA in English from Southern Methodist University and a Masters in Imaginative and Cultural Apologetics from Houston Baptist University. She consumes copious amounts of time (and coffee!) shuttling her teenagers to and fro, rescuing her cats from impending peril, and writing for An Unexpected Journal. She currently teaches the most amazing third graders at a classical Christian school in Fort Worth.