Your thirst was a boundless place

And I gave you manna.

I sent you food which fed without your knowing

(“What is it?” They said to one another.)

Into your midst

Into your dust

I sent you food —

A feast incarnate.

But your need deafened the song of those hills;

You did not follow

Though I led.

Your hearts were left in Eqypt

Enslaved, still building

Bricks without straw…

I took you to a new place and you murmured

About the old.

You would not follow

Though I fed.

Pillars of cloud I sent,

Pillars of fire I inspired;

Yes.

I.

I gave you maps, I gave you signs;

I wrote the truth on the face of the desert

And then I called your name.

But you, in your all-given existence,

Did not call mine.

Hefker, I said.

Into this unpossessed place,

Into this all-available space

I gave you sustenance,

I gave you bread,

I gave you life.

I gave myself

To a stiff-necked people

To Gethsemane sleepers and Emmaus un-seers

Yes, it is true:

Providence could go deaf straining to hear its own name.

And if there be any truth at all,

There can be no contingency.

Then shall your love be

like water from the rock.