The waiter who comes to the table
informs me that,
he will be the one,
the one,
who will fulfill all
my needs.
I look to this man
is he knew to me
Have I seen him before?
I look him over
and try to see what my meal will be like in his hands.
He seems caring and capable,
energetic-
his arms strong for even the heaviest of trays.
I accept his proposal
with a smile,
and order my meal and a glass of sweetened tea.

Sweetened ice tea can be good or bad.
As all depends on the one who makes it.
If the tea is neglected in the water it becomes bitter and coarse
too little time spent together and there is hardly the memory of an embrace.
Too much sugar and the broth is sickeningly smothering and leaves you with more thirst.
Too little and there is no desire to sip more.

He returns and I find to my delight that the tea is glorious.
It’s succulent sweetness I consume with passion.
Each drop caressing me deeply
I want more.
Setting the bare ice on table’s edge I signal my need for more.

Where is my waiter now?
When will he return?
Each time I see him walk near,
I think this will be the time!
My thirst increases as I see him walking near and filling the other needs in our world.
He returns to me now, but his pitcher is tired and has just enough left to suffer one drink then again the glass is again returned to the edge of the table
again empty and alone.

Now as he passes there is urgency desperation, the need is greater as the time since fulfillment is
more greatly passed I look to find his eyes his glance to let him know my needs.
I don’t want to be demanding or thought rude.
Meanwhile, My needs grow and the sweet memory of what I’ve enjoyed before haunts my drought. . . .
I shake my glass and give him the "Well ?"
Look.
He shrugs his shoulders
to let me know he is trying.

He will return when He can.

I begin to look around the room.
There are other waiters passing close by. I notice they too
carry
the tan succulent brew.
I wonder if I should be so rude and inconsiderate of my personal waiter? Then it happens
and
someone else notices my emptiness.
Is it so wrong

for me to allow him
to refill my glass?

Without him when will my thirst not be.

I am thirsty, My waiter can’t fill me.  Doesn’t fill me. I justify that my only obligation to him is a tip.  As long as I fulfill my obligations,
Do I not deserve to be fulfilled?

I am thirsty, And all I want is for my glass to be filled.