The Children's Bread

Freshly baked every morning, Even at noon and in the evening, In different shapes and colors- Some dense, some light Some like desert manna Some flat, some leavened Some long and whole Or sliced in small pieces Some cooled, some hot So soft and then some hard With such Heavenly aromas Served at the Master's Table Of chairs, booths, benches And cushions for tired knees, Healing is the children's bread. They hunger no more for worldy feasts. Even their dogs eat the fallen crumbs, Sometimes portions from their hands; As the children drink Living Water, They thirst no more for bitter fountains And sources of a soul's diseases. On earth the Master tabernacles With us for many days of Heaven. Within without we are healed And given our daily bread.