What is it?, they said,
as they peered at the ground.
There were thin flakes like frost
shining white all around

What is it, this ‘manna’?
For they did not know
That it was bread of heaven
Food they couldn’t sow

Born of dew
by God’s great hand
It filled their bellies
and gave strength to stand

When we’re in the wilderness
With fear high and hope dim
It’s hard to cease our grumbling
Though in trials we can trust in Him

God is our provision
Daily providing all the stuff
When we gaze and say, What is it?
His manna is enough

Charlotte-Anne Allen