Manna

 
Here I lie, manger all my own,    
passing years,days uncounted.  
a child, soft pillows,memories  
not forgotten  clothe me round.    
Voices  invade,intrude,invite.    
Plainsong peals,pervade    
this space I lie.    
I have no needs for these,  
have enough for now.    
shall stay  a brief eternity    
that will be  enough   . . . . .    
One coat,a pair of shoes,    
manna from the trees,    
shelter from the storm.