The hunger creeps in like old ivy vine

Ever creeping, consuming each limb

I turn deep Earth to find the taproot

When feet no longer dance

When legs no longer envelop lover

When hands no longer mold clay

When arms no longer raise in praise

These ravenous vines wind a cloak to hide 

My stone cold walls

Restricted from Sun and Moon beam

One can tear them away- how easily they fall

How easily they return

It is revealing the root that will free

the stranglehold of hunger

No man-made spade can dig one to freedom

Only a dancing toe, imprinting prayer,

moving Earth, shaping clay

Only pounding praise for the hunger itself

will overturn stagnant

hummus into manna

This feeds the withered soul

so no parasite can again seed itself,

 entangling the once neglected palace,

impostering a rootstock of sustenance

that one can never climb to Heaven.