spiritual poverty

“When will our consciences grow so tender

that we will act to prevent human misery rather than avenge it?”

                             Eleanor Roosevelt

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Are we so empty

So fearful

That we have lost our ability

To give

And to welcome?

In the mist of a rainy evening

I watch the horses play

Musical hay piles

Wandering distractedly

Sadie, the alpha

Aged and bony though she may be

Still queens over the pasture

Finally settling

And so to the others

And then, magically

From the darkness under the trees

Come the deer

Tentative

But eager

Finding their way to the piles of hay

And there they

Graze

The haves and the have nots

All stomachs being sated

Because of generosity and welcome

How it speaks of the poverty

Of those with obscene wealth

That they must grasp for more

Knowing that because they do

Someone goes hungry

Someone sleeps on the street

Someone has no health care

Someone lives in despair

How it speaks of the poverty

Of those with all the power

Who misuse that power

Who lie and cheat and steal

Gasping, consuming, gorging themselves

On what does not

Will not

Can not satisfy