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My God, My God,
why have You forsaken me,
created this joy
among all the pain
of the world?
Should I shed tears
or smile?
Without the knowledge
my heart suffers
and mind restlessly
looks for the solution.

If I said:
Our daily bread
is not flat, not round
or soft,
but the profound understanding
that it is made of grain
wherever we go
and sit at the table,
nobody would be all ears.
Why they don’t hear me,
because it alone
put out this flame
of guilt.

Is this why
we are kept on earth?
If this will be worked out
will the gates of Heaven
open to us?
Thus I cry out loud:
let us free the spirit
by breaking bread
with a man
next to us.
© Yelling Rosa
14/11 -13

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