I don't have to ask, they already know

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I walk into the coffee shop-without asking, they bring me a large double double. I walk into the corner store, the man brings me smokes and stratch and win-I wonder, will I be lucky today? Sometimes I could go without talking, and I wouldn't miss it. I came to understand why certain of the monks take occasional vows of silence. We've spoken enough-does He already know? When I show up at Your door, do you know what I will ask for already? And when we've asked, we become silent...so that we can hear? Or rather, so that I can hear? Things which we once knew, but had forgotten. Or rather, things that I once knew...but have forgotten. It's Sunday, and time for the Eucharist. My ritual is as much to enter that Silence. An island of the mind. Where our words no longer lie...I remember, was my heart far from you? If I draw near with my lips, and all your praise is in my mouth...would it be sincere, or a lie? It's Sunday, and it's time to remember, the Eucharist, it was never my offering and it was not my sacrifice. Before we are called to speak, we were called to listen. I don't need to ask, You already know.