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Unpretentious Are Those Gifted

That well fed the crops they harvested.
The animals grazed...
To healthy weights,
When sent off to market.
Then to slaughter to feed,
And line thick pockets.

A parching drought began.
The rains no longer came nonstopping.
Like a clock timed with the seasons.
Drying up the well and thinning pockets.

The famine of egos searched to quench thirsts.

So unpretentious are those gifted.
Who pray for solutions.
And Mother Nature hears them first.

Once again...
That well fed the crops they harvested.
The animals grazed...
To healthy weights,
When sent off to market.
Then to slaughter to feed,
And line grateful pockets...
Not as thick as selfishly once wished,
But enriched by the experience.

Once again...
The need came from the feeding,
Provided by the well.

The famine of egos searched to quench thirsts.
Unaddressed and thoughtlessly over rehearsed.

But...
So unpretentious are those gifted.
Who pray for solutions.
And Mother Nature hears them first.
Mother Nature knows when,
And how...
A quenching of a thirst nourishes.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
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