satisfied

prone to many cravings, we human kind
all sensations vie for our attention
food, fashion, feel, fame combined
assault us with their offers, full aggression
to leave us now in hungering oppression

a thousand fragrances pass by so softly
whispering alluring vanity
while that One voice that calls gently, warmly
is tender, steady, speaking from eternity
warning, guiding us far from calamity

do we listen to the fallen voice of pleasure?
which speaks from empty promises galore
it guarantees, but never will deliver
the carrot it will make you to abhor
your hungering soul, with anguish, will be sore

to be fulfilled is found upon the dust
the bloody foot of that Golgotha tree
the veins of Mercy hanging on a cross
who yields, with bleeding veins, a final plea
that He, I AM, in grace, remember me

with lustful eyes and hearts, we daily hunger;
with outstretched hand, He reaches, brimful grace
at His feet, inviting us –  peaceful, quiet – linger
in the field of pasture green and space
enfolded, satisfied, in His embrace.

 

by Amy Michnik