I have a new plow now
and a crop I can count on.
The market is full,
and the produce is plenty.
But I feel somehow empty.
I remember the desert
and the quails at evening;
in the morning, the hoar frost
turning to bread.
We were more alive then,
surrounded by nothing,
each day trusting
that we would be fed.
Help me to hear Your voice now, God,
in the midst of abundance,
to know my true need
is to turn to You still
that mine is a hunger
only Spirit can fill.
