Beth-le-hem the house Of bread it feeds us from Afar, it pours its sustenance Upon us, our open mouths Full and feeding search it still Despite its crumbling walls, its Empty spaces, and we have Lost our skill in eating, in Being fed - we are led by Wrong things, we are blinded And thirsting - its bread and Water are our hours here Its spirit singing yet We are too dumb and Beast-like to feed And hear.next poem