I saw the hungry and the hollow
I heard the thirsty throat crack
It cried out,
“How long until there is
A new song? When will we see you?”
It’s an old song, Lord
It’s an old truth, a liturgy
Winding its way through the ages
Sounding from the voices
Of the dried out and the broken
All sharing the pilgrim’s question
This hunger feels like famine
This thirst is a desert wide
When will justice appear like
Fresh bread and wine?
I sat down on the ramparts
To hear the Lord’s reply.
—eric h janzen