With Begging Hands - Poem by Daleen Enslinstrydom
In your hands you clutch a board
with a written plea:
'No work, no food and children to feed.
May God bless you.'
In my car I cannot even look at you
and I hang my head in shame,
cast down my eyes
and I realise the state that your close are in,
they are tattered and torn
and you are dirty.
'Madam, do you have a few cents to spare, '
I hear the beggar ask
and do not even glance at him
when I give him what I have got.
Driving away I am trying to forget
the impression that this man had on me
and the emptiness
and sorrow that his image portrayed
but his words had imprisoned me
and made me think about my own life.
He asked for only a few cents for bread
but man cannot live by bread alone.
'Lord, my thoughts go back to You,
to Your teachings
and am I also a beggar
with stretched out hands?
Lord, I do pray for the bread of life,
for peace in my heart
and I wonder how You do see me
on this particular day?
Am I also tattered and torn
where I stand at Your mercy
and I beg: Do not pass me by.'
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