You are our way.
You are our path.
You are the ground upon which we walk.
The place we lay our head.
You are our daily bread.

You give us our questions,
and the answers, but not always
as we expect.
You are both our need.
And the fulfilment of it.
But there is a space, in-between.
where we often sit.
Where, like paupers,
we wait, at the steps
of your house,
for our bread.

Where we wait,
in expectation of your goodness;
and the discomfort of knowing
we are fully dependent,
on your benefits.
But you God, are my way.
You are my path.
You are the ground upon which I walk.
The place I lay my head.
You are my daily bread.

The questions you give me,
are to teach me,
that you alone are sufficient.
You are my need.
And the fulfilment of it.
And the space in between
where I sit and wait…
Where so often
I lay myself prostrate
at your feet;
you sit with me, quiet and still.
And together
we wait;
in that place of communion,
where your angels lay bread
at our feet.

Ana Lisa de Jong
Living Tree Poetry
February 2017