Poem based on 9th Sunday after Pentecost John 6:1-21

It seems like so little to go around

With the people of this world

Starving

Mothers holding children in their arms

Gifts of life from God

Only to be taken from them

By priorities

Not their own

Priorities

That must be set by someone

I scream

As I watch the swollen bellies of starvation

Eat away at yet another

Someone else’s child

There must be someone

Who is doing this to these children of God

These sisters and brothers of mine

in the family of God

these to whom I claim my oneness

through Christ

as I take the bread and wine

but “who” is the cry that keeps the bowls empty

and the water filled

with yet another messenger of death

(so they gathered up)

“Who” is a finger pointed out there

aimed at some

unnamed

and unchangeable

villain

out there

as the children continue to die

(twelve baskets)

I turn off the TV

Turn down the thermostat

And turned off the lights

To get a good nights sleep in the comfort

And security

Of this home I have made for myself

And hope I do not have to hear

The pleas

For the children

On the car radio as I drive

To work

Tomorrow

(with fragments)

I can’t stand to hear

Of the pain

Until

That one is found

(from the five loaves)

who is responsible

and that one

out there

is made to correct this injustice

(left by those)

that is bringing starvation

to those

(who had eaten)

sisters and brothers of mine