Nothing Is In My Hands. Poem by Dr. Antony Theodore

I say to myself.
I work hard for my bread.
Why should I thank God?

What would have been
if a drought or flood
destroyed all the harvest?

If you became sick?
or met with an accident?

i realize
nothing is in my hands.

God I thank You.

(This was published in Poetfreak under the name of Genovamaaa. Genova was my beloved mother. She died at the young age of 38. I want to keep her name alive as long as I am alive) .