Thanksgiving - Repost
How can so few have so much -
so many have so little?
I am rich beyond belief
yet am not considered rich.
I count my riches daily:
the warmth of heart and
home, the patchy grass,
faded paint, rock garden
(each stone rolled by
my hands). The heart,
she waves to me each morning
as I leave for work,
greets me on returning.
Other hearts, now scattered,
not too far away yet never
near enough, have left their
emptiness to fill the rooms.
I sit, well clothed, warm, and
free. I am ever grateful for
this freedom, freedom to be,
freedom to be me, to love,
to sing, to speak my mind,
to write with passion of
passion. And yet I ache for
those who know not freedom,
nor peace, nor joy, nor a
day of Thanksgiving. I cry for
children who will not be
fed, nor cared for - not because
there is lack of caring - but
because the caring lacks
the backbone of freedom,
the hand of compassion,
the hope - of Thanksgiving.
John G. Lawless
11/28/2013
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