Bread of life and living water
calling still to dine on these
nourishing and ever healing
thirst and hunger to appease
Once there hobbled a lone hiker
sore feet blistered from rough stones
not a penny in his pocket
not a shelter to call home
Nearing a small clump of bushes
he collapsed in welcome shade
suddenly his mind saw visions
of a banquet richly laid
Bony fingers reached the table
where fine linen held rich food
greedily as would the dying
grabbing anything he could
He drank deeply from a chalice
gobbling bread to heart's content
gladly feasting without asking
why this wayside gift had sent
Long ago a feast was offered
precious banquet without price
many wealthy were offended
their own larders would suffice
Trusting barns of grain won't mildew
nor fair fields could suffer blight
certain wells would never muddy
or that noon might turn to night
Bread of life and living water
calling still to dine on these
nourishing and ever healing
thirst and hunger to appease.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
there are millions of those waiting in our borders. it's scary we have to drive them away