In this gift of sheltering I will find
that my hunger is life hungering for itself
and that I can trust that hunger, receive it
as my truth, as myself.---From the poem Hunger By Gunilla Norris in Becoming BreadMy hunger is life hungering for itself...
It’s a bicycle waiting for a ride,
A sunny day in search of shade
It’s the open road, a cool drink, a caramel candy, a soft
place to fall
My hunger is life hungering for itself
A dream of children waving flags
a choir in the Berkshires, a song in an aspen grove
north of Lee Vining, water ferry to an alpine meadow
My hunger is life hungering for itself
Sandalwood soap, smooth skin, a warm hand on my neck
cries in the dark, the scent of you in the morning
an open window and rain
My hunger is life hungering for itself
The touch of moss by a stream
Banyan and redwood, tall stones
Fish and chips, sea spray, otters at play
Life hungering for itself
The finished song, the unwritten poem
The strength of my own two legs and breath for air
Hungry for quiet, laughter, deep waters.
My hunger is life hungering for itself
A new day, cool breeze, horse dust
The color of sunset over a vineyard,
Snow on the beeches
Summer cicada sounds, the distant train
The things that remind me
who I am, and
who I might still be
My hunger is life. Hungering for itself,
A good night sleep
Fried eggs and muskmelon
The distant cadence of the high school marching band
Departures and returns
Prayers before bed
Bowls of blessings
Promise and fulfillment
Hungry still
My whole life is a hunger for life hungering for itself.
BLR-for the Poplar Grove Muse 9-15-13
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