Hugger

Written by: Patrick Cornwall

He woke and he got down on the creaking knees

He didn't know if God listened but  tried

His grandson was in a coma and God was asleep

But he said the prayer but  was afraid of the silence

God was the great politician in the sky

And his son Jesus would listen to the poll

When there was trouble God was the first name

Grabbing  his coffee he humbly turned to God

In his eyes it was humbly but he loved the sugar

As he sat stirring and  sweetened  thoughts 

The prayers flowed with his coffee

"Maybe God only listens to the regulars"

And he definitely wasn't one

It was  years and God was famished

The whispered prayer ended with death and the anger

"Why did you not take me"

"I have lived and gladly would take the grandson's place"

The pastor warmed up and the sisters hummed

The cup spilled over as the prayer of the faithful

He became a hugger and he covered each drink 

And the Irish believed in wake and liquor

He hugged the people tight and the salt became a scab

And God left him there with his drink