Thanks for the pain-filled look to my pain.
Thanks for funds
That flow into civilised streams that
Places, people, possessions.
Such generous acts resound around the world;
People laud such generous acts.
Tax collectors too open granite vaults to reward them too.
Amid the celebrations and flow of gold and silver
A pious widow shuffles to the treasury chest,
A trembling hand drops
Two copper coins, moistened by her tears;
One for the spouse
One for her child, no more;
In two she feels the grief for three,
And whispers an “Amen”.
Child of the teacher who taught to love the poor,
The message ever glows in you;
Reminder of whose face you see in one another:
Making receivers, givers too.
It is not enough to heal the pain,
Heal too the body, mind and soul.
Then, will the collective “Amen”Fully heal and replenish loss;
Enabling one to bear the burden of four more.