There is a hunger
that is not of the body.
A hunger that by the soul
only is known.
A thirst for the gentle curve
of another’s face
looking back into your own.
It’s a thirst not often sated.
It’s a hunger often prolonged
Our own desires oft times taint it.
Other times we’ve clearly been wronged.
Either way we come up empty
and in the midst of a famine again.
Instead of the self-promised plenty
we’re left with nary a friend
We begin by others forsaking,
we end by ourselves being forsook.
We never see ourselves making
our lives to others a sealed book.
With a strap and a lock
binding us tight
with the key having locked it
clasped in our fist-
shoved in our pocket
out of sight.
Still the desire within is to be opened –
to be read – and understood-
There is One only who can do it.
One tender enough not to tear
the pages as He goes through it.
In fact, He’ll mend and repair
and pour Himself into it
and shoulder each burdensome care.
“Come and eat,” He says, “at my table.”
“Come and drink,” He says, “of my wine.”
“ Come to me,” He says, “I’ll make you able.”
“Come to me,” He says, “abide in my vine.”
“By my side you shall no longer hunger.
“By my side you shall no longer thirst.
“You shall no longer labor under
that despot, sin, for which all is curst.”
True to say
that first time I heard His voice I dared not to answer
at His look I turned and ran the other way
I sensed the cost would mean all of me
and I knew I could not give that away.
Yet He persisted in pursuing me in my flight.
(As He is pursuing you, my dear friend, even now)
For all around us we are finding only deeper night.
(As I am sure if you’re truthful you’ll allow)
So turn, as I did, to enter His Light
Give Him the key to your life
you’ve been holding so tight.
Why get your fill of meaningless strife?
As I lay starving in that uttermost place
I turned and my gaze was drawn His way.
Drawn to the warm, gentle curve of His face-
and I drank in all He had to say,
“I was broken in my body for your hunger.
“Iron spilled my blood for your thirst.”
As my eyes clung to Him, they were opened.
In all His pain He showed me my worst.
“It was for me You bled,” I said.
For all my blackness inside – His heart had burst.
In response to such love I could do nothing less
than find all my joy in putting Him first.
From that day to this
there’s been no turning back
I look to Him so I will not miss
the way or take the wrong path.
Cleaving to His side
I no longer hunger
Leaving all my pride
I no longer thirst
I find I can bear up under
all life’s problems, even the worst.
Now, the desire within
now I am opened.
Is to read of Him
and to Him understand.
For I realize that it’s me He’ll send
(That’s always been part of His plan.)
Sent to love others
so it says, as my very self
and to proclaim to my brothers
that from His table He shares His wealth
and to love Him with all that I can
And to love Him with all that I am.