The twinge starts with an empty growl,
And grows to an ache,
Yet there always is a hole.
No matter how much I eat,
I am left wanting more.
The signs show us there is a need,
And when we follow them,
Our tummy is satisfied.
Yet somehow somewhere the ache intensifies.
And I thirst and hunger more.
Many things give pleasure,
Yet leave us wanting more,
A huge hole that begs for satisfaction,
But the more we fill it with things,
The hungrier we feel.
Why feed on what fails to satisfy?
My heart is empty still,
With a God-sized hole,
That nothing else can fill.
Physical hunger reminds us of the deeper hole,
And so there is another kind,
That fills beyond the stomach,
In our heart to unbind,
And keep us satisfied.
Hunger comes and goes,
But is has a purpose that we follow,
So too our heart needs food,
But where do we go so we don't wallow?
We fill the hole with the physical
And more do we want,
Yet the spiritual gives life.
Beyond the toil of food.
That does not leave us empty,
Even with no food.
God sends us bread,
He multiplies its existence,
It points to something more.
He is the Bread from Heaven.
We choose to follow.
And we are filled.
When one gets the drop of milk,
We want the Wine.
So turn ye to the altar
And Feast on the Presence.
We want more
He fulfills little by little.
But does the pining go away?
Not till Heaven's shore.
It is meant to carry us,
What does He say?
"Come to me ye that hunger,
And thou will be satisfied."
"Come to me thou who are labored and burdened,
I will give thee rest."
He healed disease with just a word.
So when He says,
"I am the True Bread that comes from Heaven,"
Shouldn't we believe?
"My flesh is true food my blood true drink."
Shouldn't we believe?
The grace given is tangible.
It is at our fingertips.
We have only to partake of the mystery hidden,
In bread and wine that is more than what it looks.
True Food, True Drink.
Not a symbol but transfigured by a word.
We start as babes and grow on spiritual milk to this.
The pinnacle of Faith,
The way to sustain.
The Way to carry us home,
Presence till the end of time.
To rest in Eternity
Where word cannot describe,
Nor what eye hath seen,
Nor ear hear.
But one word Thanksgiving.
Eucharistia...
The Heavenly Banquet brought to earth,
So my hunger can be satisfied,
Points me to greater things,
A pang
An ache
That fills my heart,
A prayer.
So take me home,
Where You abide,
And fill this stable,
Beckon me on,
Until you reach me,
Bring me home,
So I can be Bread to others
By one word, made whole.
