I. This night, stiller than all the rest for blessing and the breaking of bread and the lifting of the cup into the silence his word creates who teaches remembrance of what he was and is and is about to become. II. O you his disciples, shallow rememberers of those earlier transmutations of the water and the fish and the bread, shall you deceive him with your solicitations for what is vanishing now, moment by exacting moment into new meanings you cannot yet share? Are those crusts so precious as they were And the cup so fine an implement that you would hold him to the old certainties which terminate each day in a repose he can no longer know? Dare you still speak in the wake of that silence which voids even the traitor's babble drawing each word which is not his into the vacuum in which suspends a world? III. And the vacuum fills and the world fills and falls, Opening wide a wider world whose beauty shall yet draw forth even them, his deserters, wonderingly into realms beyond cognizance of all who came before but known now as in the quiet hearts' remembrance the bread is broken and the cup uplifted And He pours and pours of His love.