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The Economy
By Linda Settles
Living above it
I go on the web and the bad news is posted every day
Our nation and indeed the world, is in a "bad way,"
As my Grandpa used to say.
Banks have failed and panic reigns in the capitals of kings
Homes are lost as markets crumble & wealth takes wings
and vanishes from our life scene.
If our wealth is our power and our primary source of security
We may be tempted to find a window-- as many in the thirties
did and jump from floor thirteen.
Before we open windows and pull up a chair in our despair
We should stop, and reconsider our decision...
All is not lost and poverty is not a prison.
All losses we experience --here-- on this terrestrial plane
Are merely preparation for the treasures we will gain
If we will look beyond the prospect of our pain
We'll see a world that hid behind our wealth and prosperity
Treasures that are unaffected by this world's economy
We'll walk the woods, as Grandpa did.
A simple man, without a B.A., M.A., or PhD
His house was humble, his friends were many
and I knew that he loved me.
The woods, the streams, and even mosquito infested swamps
Were treasures in his eyes, Maybe Grandpa, after all
Knew where to find the prize
Of living well, a simple life that needed few possessions
The sunset, a deer taken, or a turkey call--a few concessions
to his comforts--these were his mansions.
What is there to fear in the instability of our economy
If we live like Grandpa did? In the midst of what some call poverty
He learned to live each day and to be free.
World markets may crumble and the Dow take its plunge
But we won't be affected if our economy is love.
The Economy
By Linda Settles
Living above it
I go on the web and the bad news is posted every day
Our nation and indeed the world, is in a "bad way,"
As my Grandpa used to say.
Banks have failed and panic reigns in the capitals of kings
Homes are lost as markets crumble & wealth takes wings
and vanishes from our life scene.
If our wealth is our power and our primary source of security
We may be tempted to find a window-- as many in the thirties
did and jump from floor thirteen.
Before we open windows and pull up a chair in our despair
We should stop, and reconsider our decision...
All is not lost and poverty is not a prison.
All losses we experience --here-- on this terrestrial plane
Are merely preparation for the treasures we will gain
If we will look beyond the prospect of our pain
We'll see a world that hid behind our wealth and prosperity
Treasures that are unaffected by this world's economy
We'll walk the woods, as Grandpa did.
A simple man, without a B.A., M.A., or PhD
His house was humble, his friends were many
and I knew that he loved me.
The woods, the streams, and even mosquito infested swamps
Were treasures in his eyes, Maybe Grandpa, after all
Knew where to find the prize
Of living well, a simple life that needed few possessions
The sunset, a deer taken, or a turkey call--a few concessions
to his comforts--these were his mansions.
What is there to fear in the instability of our economy
If we live like Grandpa did? In the midst of what some call poverty
He learned to live each day and to be free.
World markets may crumble and the Dow take its plunge
But we won't be affected if our economy is love.
(The poem appeared on authorsden.com)
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