Fasting leads me to You

where there is thirst upon thirst let my lips dry and tongue swell

when languishing for water, near death

let me die

where there is hunger and desire to fill my aching belly

when flesh drops from bones, and all thoughts turn to food

leave me empty, or

let me feast on You

when tempted to lay quiet and swim in desperation

throw sand in my eyes and slap my face

shake me to standing

and grant me grace to find the positions of prayer again and again

to move and to murmur

in reverence, and if rewarded to fall forward into

absolute joy

as You press me ever more deeply into You