Touch Bread with Reverent Fingers
T
OUCH bread with reverent fingers—it is
part
Of God himself, the kernel at the heart
Of earth’s deep inward being. It has come
A long way on a journey out of some
Far inner region for the good of man:
A hardy germination that began
When God first saw the earth and called it good;
When fields were planted and the gold wheat
stood
Rippling like music down the lands.
And then the harvest—and a woman’s hands
Shaping a loaf—an oven’s glowing heat,
And lo, at last, the bread, brown-crusted, sweet,
To satisfy man’s hunger. Oh, thank God,
That lifting upward from the broken sod,
Has come this evidence of gracious care:
Our daily bread—the answer to our prayer.
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