My First Fish Food
I was seven ~ war coming on
living with aunts, uncles ~ parents divorced anon
the church I walked to ~ the road seemed long
in Minnesota ~ not woe be gone!
A Catholic school, name of Saint, nuns to teach their way
I was given a chore ~ first grader, to explore
"feed the goldfish" each and every day
my stomach growled, no food along the way!
I snuck a tiny bit and chewed
the wafer tasted wan, no flavor good
a twinge of guilt, not understood,
this was a curious interlude!
I did excuse my hunger's breech,
and mustered onward for the teach!
then years of learning, constant, same
'til finally my big day came!
The first Communion, dressed to take
white shoes, socks, veil for my sake
all shyness, but now I belong
I'm here and marching with the throng!
The priest with golden cup, signalling again
he handed me a wafer, round & white & trim
spoke, placing in my mouth, Body of Christ in Him
my moment up, arose from kneeling then.
It had no real flavor, & melted on my tongue
"it tastes the same as fish food"
I wondered what I'd done ~
it must be some occasion, to teach me right from wrong!
A hungry child in quest of food
then spiritual trek's renown
now, later years, abruptly all seems gone
embarassing moments, where conscience seems to spawn!
I've never stolen outright
just trivia here & there,
like extra soap in hotels,
and sugar packs, lunch fares!
Some queeziness reminds me,
what makes a thief get on
by hoarding others treasures
forfeiting from where they've come!
-cont'd-
I guess Lord, that's a lesson
the smallest feet guilt numbs
and on my pride's occasion
I wanted just to run!
The conscience's not a ration
it's vibrant, life, not pawn
the smallest errors echo
truth's hidden challenge fawns!
Copyright © Paula Larson | Year Posted 2012
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