“You always ask for more,”
I imagine he gently chides me
as I open my hands and beg
to make it through another day.
“As if what I have given
would not suffice for you.”
And in the breaking of the bread
I admit that he is right,
but my heart cries out “it is not enough,”
cries out “I am drowning!” as
wave after wave breaks over me
and the salt and the silt grow thick.
“What little faith,” he chides me.
But how can I be other than I am?
A child crying out for a father—
afraid of the sea and the dark.
This is day 22 of LABIA MUNDA, a series of forty poems during the forty days of Lent.