Tibor Lazar saatchiart.com
There are weeds growing beneath the feeder
The collateral damage of kindness
One feeds birds not for their good manners
but for the joy of seeing them play
Daily the storehouse is refreshed with seed
Their mission: to devour & scatter
‘Consider the lilies of the field’
‘Consider the birds of the air’
Daily the least in the kingdom come to feast
on fare they neither sow nor reap
‘What wastrels!’ says the neighbor
‘What treasures!’ I would answer
For is it not just so that we come to the table
of grace? Mendicants & profligates!
Poet's Corner 