Hunger

There’s no escaping a hungry crowd.
Even in deserted places there will be no hiding;
they find him.
To be fair, in our story, it was the disciples
who articulated the need for food.
Maybe the crowd has already
had its metaphorical hunger
satisfied.

Jesus fed me once.
I was hungry; for something
I couldn’t even name.
A spiritual something, an answer,
perhaps, to my bewilderment,
my anger,
my uncertainty.
At least, I think it was Jesus.

Dining on his story
I caught glimpses of hope,
along with tracings of grace.
These intimations
proved food enough to satisfy,
and in time, to value
both the uncertainty
and the anger.

© Ken Rookes 2014.

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One thought on “Hunger

  1. Pingback: Hungers | poemsinseason

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