We crave it, Lord, we crave it
There is an empty place
That nothing in this world can fill
But Love’s atoning grace
The seed fulfills its purpose
Yet, it is not life’s Whole
Though harvest fills our bellies
It cannot feed the soul
We want it; how we want it
Things weary with their weight
Its care expands a hollow where
Love’s longings saturate
Believing is receiving
Receiving fills that place
In need of mercy’s pardon
And love’s atoning grace
© Janet Martin
Though harvest fills our bellies it cannot feed the soul...
Great writes today. You're on a roll:) No hydro required for your muse:)it was out for a while then ? We weren't out but I heard there was many affected.
ReplyDeleteThank-you Lucy. It was an unexpected treat to have some un-rushed writing time. that hardly EVER happens, but the power was out, baby-sitting cancelled, house tidy, couldn't do laundry; it was sort of like a Monday morning gift:)
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