The Ancient Modern

Long Into Night  /  Joshua Alan Sturgill     

When the Lord went alone to the mountain,
the crowds departed with His blessing
carrying home twelve baskets-full of leftover bread
as evidence of the miracle.

And in the subsequent silence,
the field that bore His footprints called out to the mice
and the air awakened by His voice called out to the sparrows: 
Come ye, taste and see! 

And the smallest children of God
timidly, then boldly arrived at the Feast.
First the sparrows and the mice,
then the doves and the moles, then eagles and foxes

until even the vultures and the wolves dared
approach the holy Bread. 
They darted and danced; they nosed and tongued and pawed,
searching every stone, through clover, hyssop, sage.

Unseen by the crowds (safely returned to their villages)
or by the disciples (whose fishing boat, low
with their twelve-fold weight, labored against a storm),
all that evening and long into night

the crumbs of the barley loaves continued to multiply
until every soul was satisfied


All poetry and supplementary material: copyright 2023 by Joshua Alan Sturgill. All rights reserved.

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