A Quiet Walk

Shepherd me, O God, beyond my wants,

They walked the dusty road with him
not knowing who he was
with every word he spoke, a fire burned within
yet they didn’t recognize him

Are we not like Cleopas and his companion
when with us in the dark he walks
closed are the eyes of our hearts  
we cannot see the one who
sets our souls on fire

It was the breaking of bread
they recognized
the source of their desire,
their Lord

In the breaking of our bread
we recognize our Lord
we see our Lord, we hear our Lord, when . . .
we share our bread with outcasts
the disinherited
it is in the eyes of the hungry we see . . .

the face of Christ

~Ruth Jewell, ©April 22, 2019

Boyce Thompson Arboretum, Arizona,
by Ruth Jewell, 2005

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