Imagine yourself waking up to a beautiful day. The sun is shining, the birds are singing in the trees the air is crisp and smells sweet. Everything is perfect. The harmony of the crisp, sunshiny morning filled with the songs of birds is suddenly broken by a rumbling. It is not the rumbling of a passing truck, or an earthquake. It is the rumbling of your stomach.
The minutes creep by in painful slowness. Like honey dripping from an overturned spoon. But the honey is just a dream and the spoon is the memory that spilled the dream onto the hard concrete of reality. Then, the pain of each endless minute is punctuated by the sound of the rumbling until it drowns out the birds, blocks pout the sun and turns the sweetness of the fresh morning scent into the stench of injustice. “Why me?” The words echo through your mind and add their voice to the soundtrack of your rumbling stomach.
Then another thought enters your mind “Must eat food!” Soon the rumbling in your stomach is joined by a pounding in your head. It pounds in rhythm to the rumbling in your stomach and the echo of why me and changes it into the wailings of a specter as what was just a thought becomes a plea and then a directive. But there is nothing to eat.
Welcome to every morning for wild animals, the homeless and the poor.
In True Faith,
The Prophet of Life
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