Regalada

The good Lord sends me gifts I didn’t earn,
sometimes far in excess of what I’ve sought.
I give him grateful thanks, and then return
to shake the wrappings as an afterthought.

The more I have, the more I seem to need;
I hunger, though my cupboards almost burst.
Each acquisition fans a spark of greed.
My cup is full to brimming; still, I thirst.

When I was younger, people called me poor,
yet I had all the gifts I ever wanted.
Now, happiness depends on getting more
expensive toys I’ll quickly take for granted.

My life was richer when I did without.
Let others pray for rain. God grant me drought.

Carol Taylor

Photo by Pratyay on Flickr