We Have to Be Better

We have to be better.
We have to be better.
Better than the red heart of the bread
that fills the whole room with the aroma
of Sun and Earth and Hunger.
We have to be better.
We have to be better.
Better than the white lips of the water
that kiss your knees and speak in a whisper
of all the rivers that have run dry
and all the throats that are dreaming of wine.
We have to be better.
We have to be better.
Better for the sake of the child
who is imagined by your mornings
and by the rainbow in your heart.
Better for the sake of that kindly man
who wishes you “Good afternoon”
as he calmly enjoys his lunch.
We have to be better.
We have to be better.
Better than the red heart of the bread,
better than the white lips of the water,
for our own sake,
for our own sake,
for the sake of the man’s “Good afternoon,”
for the sake of that innocent child,
who is imagined by your mornings
and by the rainbow in your heart.