I woke
with spittle on my tongue
a fire in my belly
a prayer in my pocket
but not a lot of hope
I trudged
through a day meant for Sabbath
but loaded up with the firewood that stokes
a fire in my belly
until the burn is a burn that burns
you
I managed
to swallow the words
with spittle on my tongue
that would sooth your burns
or at least comfort you a little,
that spittle
I slept
still holding all my money and
a prayer in my pocket
saving those hopes
for another day
for another you
As another clergy person, I get the sense of being less effective in a day than our ideals would lead us to. S;pittle is an interesting word and fire in the belly a compelling image. Good writing.