Moabites (2005)

A rag-world
A renting time of life
Commuting across Jordan
For microwaved communion
And pirated psalms
For medicated rest
And transience as sacrament
Round here we do all our traveling by night.

Something in us goes hungry,
In a stubble city of a reaping age
A spangled field of glimmering
Mysteries for the gleaning.
Gathered up and taken home
Precious remnants pored over
Little beautifuls, tiny warmths
Shards of gleam
And kindness enough
To make of it all a heart’s blanket
And a soul’s meal
Before we sleep at the feet of the redeemer.

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