Still, it is not enough
A woman facing redundancy
Sought the help of a sorceress
Who prepared sweet foods and drink
To be offered to the guillotine,
Operated by a man under pressure
Praying he is not the one
To release the levers
When business gets really rough.
It is she who walks blamelessly and does what is right and speaks truth in her heart; she who does not slander with her tongue and does no evil to her neighbor, nor takes up a reproach against her friends; who swears by her own hurt and does not change.
Fly like An Eagle
So that husbands return with their pay
Wives, so as to not interfere
Refer to their husbands
As Eagles in the Sky
Saying to their children
The Eagle is coming home soon
And when it lands
They will have money to live by.
They empower the tired, and to him who has responsibilities they increase his strength. Even new fathers are weary, and young men shall feel exhausted; but they who wait for their wives shall renew their strength; they shall fly with wings like eagles; they shall work and not be weary; they shall work and not be tired.
A tribe in the outer suburbs
Were given new mobile phones
On a day huge hailstones reigned down,
And they trashed them all
Because novelty and disaster
Do not sit well together
In the minds of a people
Too used to struggle and strife.
If they speak in the tongues of men, but have not love, they are like noisy gongs or a clanging cymbal. And they have war like powers, and understand violence and its methods, and if they have to means to take things but have not love, they are nothing.
The Prosperity Merry-go-round
There are some cultures now
Not mentioning the word Economics,
Instead when they talk about money
They say Keynes vs. Hayek
Or Government intervention
Or the free-falling Free Market
Because the word Economics
Has taboos attached to it.
They who feel the wind will not sow, and they who follow the clouds will not reap. And if they also do not know the way money comes to wallets and back accounts, they do not know the work of Economics. In the morning accounts should be checked and at evening doubt be withheld, not knowing what will prosper.
Good times, lost times
For many the past is dead,
And no matter how much revival
Is attempted by theologians
And other custodians of the past
The fact remains that nothing
Of how it was can be spoken of
And be given a true account
Other than it is ‘the lost one’.
How lucky for theologians that the past has not been seen, from the beginning of the world, nor will it ever be. For if those days had not been cut short, the truth would be remembered. But for the sake of theologians those days were indeed cut short.
The Actor’s Lot
As is the custom in Hollywood
When a child of an actor is born
A designated director would choose
The role of a past actor
And the child would have
To live like that actor,
And many have been known as
Jake or Dorothy.
They are doers of the script, and not just hearers. For if any actor is a hearer of the script and not a doer, the actor is like someone who looks intently at his natural face in a mirror. For if he looks at himself and goes away, he soon forgets what he was like.