We wait beside the brook, When dreary famine comes, Fed by God's ravens, Water floweth, That will not dry up. Before me lies uncertainty, How can I live in security? One step is a burden, A journey to travel, With bare feet. Each step hurts, As the journey is long, My destination is unclear. Will God speak in desert, Or guide in endless sands? A still breeze blows, carrying comfort, A shelter from the heat, After miles tread unknowing. A Bed to sleep... But is there food to carry, Nourish heart and soul? A promise echoes deep within, A quiet voice to call. Security. My sticks I gather, My jar is there, Will it empty? Do I have the flour, The oil, Salt to flavor, Water to dampen? A Promise echoes, "The jars will not run dry, Give me a cake, Then feed your own, You will not die." I believe. I act. I follow. One cake is all it takes. The fire burns, The sun in brilliance, Radiates heat. Will the little I have be enough, To feed my own? I knead the dough, Spark ignited, Sticks to flare. My little cake. I look within my shelf of jars, And still there is sustenance. I can make a loaf. But only just enough. Will tomorrow be filled? I will die! Me and my own. The moon arises, Sleep to refresh, Stars in brilliance twinkle. A promise in my heart to hope, "Enough." A stomach satisfied, But the burning question, "Enough?" A look, A gasp, Another loaf to bake. As the days pass, We grow stronger, Fed by the Unseen Hand. Just one loaf, But eternity fed, The jars do not run dry. The fear of death is gone. And then comes, Hardship A death where it hurts most, My child! "No.It is not the end." Why, Oh Lord do you not see her languishing? Thrice a call that is pained deep. And then surprise! Little arms encircled, "Mother." Flushed but saved, Rain.
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