What if when I stepped up to the vending machine
It didn’tgive me what I wanted
It spit back the coins
It shoved what I need
Not what I pressed
What if when I craved sweets
It pushed out salt
Or simply shut down
Made me wait an eternity
What if the vending machine isn’t a vending machine after all?
And my prayers aren’t blank tickets to buy one get one free
And my God knows better than I know myself?
What if He thinks I need
To nourish and keep me healthy?
Will I slam my hand against the glass
And walk away?