I crawl to your table.
“Bread of Life” means something 
Different now, something new,
Disturbing. Why?
Why would you do this
For me
Before I knew you or
After you knew me?

I haven’t done as much
For you as I should.
I want to,
Need to,
Feel like I’ve done something—
Anything—
Worthy of your bread:
Lived the right way,
Said the right things,
Loved my neighbor who
Complains about everything, 
Prayed for people I don’t even like,
But I can’t.
Even if I could, I can’t,
Because there is no “worthy”,
There is no earning
Your bread.

Grace would be
So much easier to accept
If it weren’t free.
Free for me, anyway—
I know it cost you
Everything.

I glance your way,
Can’t really even
Look you in the eye.
I don’t deserve any of this.
Now you want to
Give me some wine.
You pour it out for me and
I can barely take it.
I’m sure it’s the
Good stuff, 
Priceless.

Most people drink
To forget, but you
Told me to drink 
To remember.
And so, I do,
To remember you.


David K. Carpenter
April 14, 2022
Copyright © 2022 by David K. Carpenter, All rights reserved.