By Yasen Vedrin
(The Copper Bowl)
For just a crust of bread, a tramp began to pray
Beside the trash bins of a city block.
“Oh, God! My woes have broken me today,
But You will help, for You are strong as rock!
A single slice is all I ask... For night!
To stop the rumbling of my empty space.
It’s hard to shiver with no food in sight,
I’m growing faint, darkness blurs my face...”
Out for a cigarette upon the balcony,
A snob o'erheard the beggar’s desperate cry.
To him, the groan below was pure comedy,
Much like a mock epitaph under the sky.
“I’ll have some fun! Why not, just for a thrill?
I have a leftover piece of bread right here.
That wretch below is praying with such zeal,
Though God will hardly show up and appear...”
A moment later, down the bread piece flies
And lands upon the grass... A miracle untold!
The poor soul fills with joy he can't disguise,
For God has heard him from His heavenly fold.
“Oh, at Your feet, Almighty God, I fall!
My soul now praises You with all its might,
For You do hear the mournful sights that call,
And heal my sorrow with this bread tonight...”
The snob bursts out into a roaring laugh:
“What God, you fool! The bread was given by me!”
“Old man! I asked Him for it on my path...” —
The comforted poor soul replies with glee —
“And He accounts to no one for His grace,
Of where and how He chooses to be kind!
And so to Him, the Glory shall take place,
Even for the smallest things that we may find...”
The cigarette burns out... untouched, ignored...
The snob stands frozen, not a word to say.
The tramp walks past the bins, towards his Lord,
In radiant prayer, he softly walks away.
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