For You Are My Portion

Behind me lies the wilderness—

its shadowed valleys and jagged lessons now fading.

Behind me, the cocoon lies long shed,

the tattered remains buried in unmarked graves.

The years were often dark,

frightening, and dire—

yet every tear, every shattering,

You used as fuel in Your refining fire.

For You, the One who is my portion.

A table, fit for the King,

stands set apart and prepared for me.

Abundant portions overflow— rich oils drip,

warm bread steams, and a holy hush blankets the atmosphere.

For You, the One who is my portion.

Crowns are cast down with a clatter.

Humbly, I bow low, forehead to the ground.

I worship at the feet of the One—

the One who is my portion.

As I feast, my weary body is renewed—

strength surges through aching bones and tired flesh.

As I drink, my faded dreams sharpen into view.

Fresh visions pour like living water from Your mouth.

For You are my portion.

Flesh of Your flesh, bone of Your bone—

never once did You leave me alone.

Jewels of mercy and glory

You have pressed into my soul,

sparkling against old scars,

For You are my portion.

You are my new wine,

Together we break bread,

Soaring as one, as eagles we climb on wings of wind—

for You are my portion.

Insatiable hunger—for Your eyes alone.

Insatiable thirst—for Your love that satisfies the deepest marrow.

Insatiable desire—to behold Your beauty face to face.

You are all I need.

For You are my portion.

Authors Note:

Behind this poem my words stretch into a vast wilderness — not merely a place, but a living testament of my soul’s long pilgrimage. It is a terrain of shadowed valleys and refining fires, where darkness pressed close and fear whispered its dire prophecies. Yet even there, in the crucible of affliction, the divine Refiner was present. Every tear became holy fuel. Every shattering moment was surrendered to flames that did not destroy, but purified. The cocoon of old identity lies shed and discarded, its fragile remnants buried in unmarked graves. What once confined now rests in sacred silence, making way for emergence.

This poem unfolds as a breathtaking movement from death to life, from fracture to wholeness. A journey through the wilderness and into the presence of the King. Here, a table is set apart, prepared with divine intentionality. Abundant portions overflow in lavish generosity. Rich oil anoints. New wine flows, deep and alive. A holy hush blankets the atmosphere, thick with glory, inviting the weary traveler to lay down every burden and feast.

In this sacred space, the posture of the heart shifts. Crowns once held tightly are cast down with a humble clatter. The soul bows low — forehead to the ground — in reverent worship at the feet of the One who never left.

Flesh of His flesh, bone of His bone. Jewels of mercy and glory are pressed tenderly into the once-broken places of the soul, catching heavenly light even against old scars. The body, long weary, is renewed with every moment spent in the presence of The Living King, Jesus. Dreams that had faded sharpen into vivid focus. Fresh visions pour like living water from the mouth of the Beloved. Soaring as one, like eagles riding unseen thermals, the soul climbs higher on wings of intimate communion. There is no separation. There is only the relentless, beautiful pursuit — an insatiable hunger for His eyes alone, an unquenchable thirst for love that reaches the deepest marrow, a holy desire to behold His beauty face to face.

At its core, this poem holds an eternal truth: When all else falls away, He remains. When the years have been dark and dire, He proves faithful. When the soul longs for more, He is the More. It is a testimony of transformation. It is a love song between the redeemed and the Redeemer. It speaks of the One who is not merely Provider, but Portion — the all-sufficient inheritance, the very sustenance of the heart. In Him, the lame walk. The ashamed are unveiled. The hungry are filled. The wilderness fades behind, and before stretches an open horizon painted with Heaven’s mandate.

You are my Portion. These simple, powerful words become both anchor and anthem — a declaration that echoes through every chamber of the human heart. In the feast, in the fire, in the flight — He is enough. He has always been enough. And in this knowing, the soul laughs with holy glee, forever undone by love.