The mendicant

The mendicant


Every day,I raise my arms in prayer

To gather my fistful of sky

All that I remembered to be grateful for



Yet I return, each time with my begging bowl

Asking , grasping , pleading for just a little more



And You in your infinite wisdom , mercy

Fill it with the nectar of your love

That it may show the skies, the moon, stars

All that your love touches



I gather them greedily in my cupped hands

But they slip through my fingers

Leaving me empty



Until , I set down the bowl

In it's still depths

See my own reflection

To learn I am already blessed

With all I will ever need,

Your love.




--shubha