I, the utensil.

I, the spoon.

The fork.

Sometimes even the knife.

Utensils, yes.

Useful, perhaps.

Effective, on occasion.

But mere utensils.

No intent of alimentation.

A spoon does not nourish

A fork does not feed

A knife does not fulfill

[through self created will]

Rather the Hand that lifts the spoon

The fork

The knife…

[Hunger no more]

The Hand nourishes

Feeds

Fulfills

… on occasion employs the spoon

…the fork

…the knife.

I, the utensil.

Custom utilization,

According to the need.

At times…

a spoon to smoothly glide

a fork to probe

even a knife to sever

but sometimes…

the utensil of excess with unseen necessity

[as present at meals of importance]

… and so is momentarily left to the side.

I, the utensil, found positioned as such

More often than preferred

Self esteem decreasing

But worth not weighing in

[for dessert has yet to be served]

And so I wait

For the Hand’s timing of necessity.

Because I,

Am a mere utensil.

To linger and speculate the success of digestion?

Silly.

To patiently await succeeding usage?

Not so silly.

Stomachs are grumbling.

The Hand has work to do.

And I, the utensil,

Purpose unfleeting,

Anticipate employment.