There is the bread
of the morning
as the angel brought it
to the prophet
for another day’s journey.
Bless, O Lord, the morning bread.
Bless all who start off for their day’s work.
There is the bread
of the evening
as the widow of Sarepta
baked the last loaf
and then passed away
like so many mothers in the starving countries.
Bless, O Lord, the evening bread
and look and find among us
hands that will bring this bread to you,
so that your blessing
can multiply it
as it did that evening by the sea.
There is the daily bread
the days cut into hours
the life that we want to share with each other.
We pray you, give us the daily bread.
Give it to us and keep us from the day
that we will not know how to appreciate a gift.
We pray you, give it to us today
because we cannot carry on
with the leftovers and fragments of yesterday.
Give us fresh bread every day
because we cannot guarantee
love and the future.
Each day needs your blessing.
We beg it of you, with great trust.
Jesus, your Son, friend at our table,
bread broken for us,
has told us
You are a good father
a father who will not give
his children
stones for bread.
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If you understand me
if you can make sense of me,
if you feel what my pain is
if you arouse the best in me
- your dream perhaps –
if you call me by my name
in a language and an accent
that no one else knows
if you ask me over and over again
where my sister is, my brother
if you forgive me squarely
as much as seven times
if your hand looks for mine
if I sink
if you hold me more
than I can keep myself in hand
then I don’t know
whether I can laugh or cry
whether I have lost or found
whether I must speak or keep silent
And if I want to speak
I will find no words
and if I keep silent
how will you ever know
how grateful
I am to you
that you are my Father.
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