O Bread of Heaven.
Our stomachs rumbling with our need,
Our bodies limp.
We must come thirsty to your fount,
O sprinkling wine.
Oh, cleanse and satisfy our tongues,
Which never tasted, never drank
So rare a drink.
We come again, again, and hunger yet.
To be human is to need.
Oh, fill us ever,
Thou whose heavenly pantries
Are bounteous always,
Whose vats of oil and raining manna
Satisfy. Oh, satisfy my soul!
And soul, be never satisfied.
December 24, 2012
Exodus 29
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1 comment:
Like, like, like. BEAUTIFUL, good poet.
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