If His lips be mine,
I have no greater love than His wine.
I shall spend my time picking from His long wiry vine.
If love shall be dished out upon my plate,
I shall dine.
I shall not wait.
But, I shall partake of the feast.
And eat from the bread, with risen yeast.
With it growing and spreading from limb to limb,
Nothing but God's fiery words upon my breath,
I shall not taste of eternal death.
I invite you to the feast of Living Waters.
Don't hesitate to bring your sons' and daughters'.
You will taste the food of Angels' upon your lips.
That satisfies your whole being.
And come to grips.
There is no greater love.
Than to be served, by my Beloved.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem