Imagine getting used to eating plastic,
as, sadly, now the fish in oceans do,
till habit makes you think that it’s fantastic,
and it’s the grub that most appeals to you.
Unlikely though it seems, it has occurred:
our appetites have in the world been mangled
till we are like the fish or ocean bird
that’s in a plastic six-pack mesh entangled.
But I’m not speaking of our body’s meal
but of the way our souls can get their fill,
and with a scripture’s help I’ve come to feel
our soul food is to do our Maker’s will.
I’ve craved what’s bad and in its broth I stewed.
May doing what Love wills be my soul’s food.


Mario A. Pita

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