Bright Harvest by Grace Noll Crowell - HTML preview

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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