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| Oranges with Purple Tissue by Denise Mickilowski |
The Boy Who Sells Sweet Oranges
The boy who sells sweet oranges
Is rich with an abundance
Which nothing can exhaust
The boy who sells sweet oranges
In his patched clothes
Has maps of a world
Unknown to other map-makers.
The boy who sells sweet oranges
Carries a bittersweet gold mine
In his basket.
The rich children seeing him
From their high balconies
Think it funny that he is happy
With no shoes on.
They have no idea that his clothes
Are maps of a world
Unknown to other map-makers
And that there hangs from his arm
A bittersweet gold mine
Given him by the mountain.
Alicia Cadilla
Translated by H. R. Hays
"An abundance which nothing can exhaust"... This poem reminds me how upside down our values are. We have riches all around us, beauty, love - the limits are in ourselves, not in our resources.
Your comment puts me in mind of one of my favorite devotions from Streams In The Dessert. In short it asks if a man is given the keys to a vault and only takes one cent whose fault is it if he is poor. God invites us to know Him as deeply as we choose, how deeply is up to us.
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