The Supernal Hunger
The waste whipped to frenzy under vigilant stars,
Crashing mad and caustic, with the ocean it spars.
Shadows sprawl from light of the bleary-eyed moon,
Prostrate at the presence in the destitute gloom.
He clung to the Ghost, it called Him away
To where the locusts and the tempests hold sway,
To sup on spectral manna, to drink deep the speech,
Despite abrosia – the guide!
“The thirst awakens and the hunger grows,
Sate me on Thy spirit, on Thy spirit, Lord.”
The hunger that only the supernal can appease!
Starvation switing Christ like a spear on the wind
Against the rocky terraces of rubicund,
Yet lancing to the Saviour through the anguish and noise,
Balsamic sustenance in a fatherly voice.
He indulged the Ghost, which unto Him did the same,
For communion is the vittle surpassing the gastric domain,
It tended His soul ‘til betwixt the crags there did grow
The ambrosial Tree of Life!
“The thirst awakens and the hunger grows,
Sate me on Thy spirit, on Thy spirit, Lord.”
The arid stretch with the Saviour therein yet besieged by scathing flaws,
And Jesus kept
Lidless eyes on His heavenly prize, His altruistic cause,
Whilst in His shadow painted serpents amassed from fissures rent with claws…
The Devil saw Christ in His wearied state as upon deprivation He stood,
And Satan leapt
With wicked glee that his enemy had such anathema accrued.
No knowledge he holds of the benedight soul, the need beyond the pale-
Thus, he shall scheme to no avail.
“The thirst awakens and the hunger grows,
I’m sated on Thy spirit, on Thy spirit, Lord!”
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