as if it were only water.
I had slept in that desert
ten years four times.
I had exhausted my strength upon it.
I was a fallen, cooling star,
grounded beneath a thousand high fires.
The old men named me
Lesser of the Firstborn Sons,
for I was determined to fight my own giants.
I beat the gold of my escape
into gods of my assent,
into gods of my ascent.
Manna is sweet unless
dependence is bitter medicine.
Ten years four times,
ten years four times I knelt
to bread not of my own baking.
I have weathered the wilderness of determination.
I have come to know the sharp drought
of my own pink throat.
I have come to know hunger,
hunger like the sins of the world.
-John 6-
for I was determined to fight my own giants.
I beat the gold of my escape
into gods of my assent,
into gods of my ascent.
Manna is sweet unless
dependence is bitter medicine.
Ten years four times,
ten years four times I knelt
to bread not of my own baking.
I have weathered the wilderness of determination.
I have come to know the sharp drought
of my own pink throat.
I have come to know hunger,
hunger like the sins of the world.
-John 6-
I especially enjoyed the stanza "Manna is sweet unless/ dependence is bitter medicine./ Ten years four times/ ten years four times I knelt/ to bread not of my own baking." In a lush land and a life of providence we relegate ourselves to the desert of needing to deserve everything we have.
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