The Odd Beggar or Two

You are done begging,
holding your hands out
like a starving child
for one last bowl of gruel.

The world is bigger than that,
a universe of gold and diamonds
waiting to be plucked like fruit,
or Newton-like to fall from trees,

and it is time to let God work his magic
now that yours has failed so miserably.

About this poem

Sometimes life is out of our control. Sometimes we recognize that. And it’s OK. Better minds than ours are at work here.

Tom