My Food

I now know what Jesus meant when he told his disciples
"I have food you know nothing about"
I had to wait to eat in Ethiopia
Eating is communal there
You can't get your coffee to go
And there's no pulling out your Clif bar unless you have 8 or 9 to share
As I prayed for the timing of food
While descending a mountain at 10,000 feet
To a church in the valley below
I put on the restraint of waiting

The line was not long
My food was the ripe song of African chants
The washed faces of gladness
And the still sunrise of thanksgivings 
My greedy stomach still cried for bite and swallow
Yet I was fed by the man from Nazareth
Only with hunger forced upon me
Was I able to rest in the company of satiation