Behold your brother.
He stands with hand outstretched.
“Alms for the poor,” he begs.
His life it seems so wretched.

His clothes they may be ragged.
His face dirty and unclean.
These outer signs of poverty
Are not what they do seem.

His true lack is on the inside –
In his clinging to belief
That handouts will improve him –
That alms will bring relief.

He sees himself a pauper
And not as the king he is inside.
And for this lack of understanding
All hope within has died.

“Awake! Awake! And see the truth!”
This would be the greatest gift.
Far more valuable than coin or food.
These words his soul would lift.

The beggar on the street’s too lost.
He wants not to hear your words.
They fly right past his closed-off ears
Like a flock of frightened birds.

But there are those who’re ready
To be awakened now.
Hungry for a taste of love
Yet to find it, they know not how.

If you come across a frightened soul
Who suffers lack within their heart.
Then fill their coffers with your love
And thus true wealth impart.

(Note from Suzanne – an incredibly clear and strong connection this morning as I received these words. I thought, “How are they going to find a word that rhymes with ‘outstretched’?” When “wretched came, it gave me a physical shock. This poet had a very strong feeling of being from the 1800s, using words like alms, pauper, and coffers … An awesome experience to receive this poem so quickly and clearly. Thank you, Spirit.)