THE INTERVIEW
You there lad, a moment of your time, if you would kindly share.
The sun low, the people of the day now on their way.
I saw you. I, too, ate my fill of your seemingly sparse fare.
You, so close, you surely overheard some whispered words of prayer.
Sir, I heard. Yet whisper from that man I did not hear.
His voice was strong. He offered, loud and firm, his thanks and praise.
The bread broke, the fish’s flesh then torn: he had no fear.
Of disbelief and ridicule or scorn, there was none this day: that all were filled was clear.
Why you, boy? Your meager serving slight, as for one so young.
Who called you? Dared you bring an offering of no worthwhile extent?
Was there mirth? Or puzzlement, at least? Or words that stung,
From those chosen men, who placed you there in view of him upon whose words hunger hung?
Sir, I heard one’s call. The need so beckoned me that I did bring,
Food prepared by my mother’s love for me, from God’s good gifts.
The rabbi smiled – knowing – as loaves and fish he lifted high, that both our hearts did sing.
Food consumed, the surplus gathered up, the truth of God’s full measure of His love for all did surely ring.
Jim Davis
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Jim Davis Creative Arts: Paintings, Poetry, Prose, and Commentary 