Money is not everything.
But life’s a struggle when you can’t afford a thing.
Life’s difficult,
when money’s not in your reach.
It’s as if it floats by on a leash,
with its ‘owner’ behind.
You stretch out the hand which has gotten so tired of stretching,
to touch it,
to feel it,
to hold it ..
Even if it’s just for a minute.
But as it’s about to land,
it gently flows off to another man;
whether to the doctor,
teacher,
the mechanic,
or the fisher woman.
Life’s hell when you don’t have it.
It’s hell when your hand is at your jaw,
and the other scratches your head like a dog’s paw.
It’s he’ll when you worry about your other meal,
because the fridge is empty.
There’s not even an orange seed.
It’s hell,
when you have to think about the light being gone,
the water being gone
and the internet being gone.
It’s hell when the amount of money left can be counted on your finger,
which means it’s a number: one digit – one figure.
It’s hell when you worry about the kids and what they think.
It’s hell when you have to borrow as if there’s no tomorrow,
borrow so much, it seems as if there’s a hole in your hand –
one the size of a rabbit’s burrow.
Mostly it’s hell when your throat gets hoarse from calling out to God for so long,
when you deprive yourself from food for so long ..
But still, no response.
It’s as if God’s saying:
*“Be still my child, that’s where you belong.”

When we stood there and said
“Until death do we part
to love and cherish”
Did we really comprehend
what that might mean?
We said “I do!” So full of certainty, but
did we really?
At that time, neither of us had a clue
So filled with expectations of love.
Really, not a clue about babies
All nighters with a sick child
Teen age daughter out late, We pacing while
Anxiously awaiting her return.
Moves, Job changes, in-laws
Some dying, others somehow living on
To Be care for, while We too age
Menopause, backaches, the slow settling
Into the inevitable silence of quiet companionship
No need to talk
Now, just sitting, watching
flames
In the fireplace
cup of tea
in hand
a
book
and
My
Love.
I
Do