Nothing: not a word and all I need is one.
They crowd him with muttering, staring but I will not be silenced,
Silence: followed by some crap about mercy not being for me
and my soul roars.
I cry louder and deeper and longer,
“Not for me!?!
I’ll show you not for me,
Mercy, I need just one word, one breath, one crumb from their laden table of obeisant religious pride.
They sit with rotting feast while I kneel starving, begging for a crumb.
You will have mercy – I know!”
His face tuns to smile …
He leans and whispers, “Such faith!”
And mercy floods my life.
I eat, I am restored in his laugh.
In his amazement I receive and I am whole again.