Dear Sir

Dear Sir,
How are you?
Have you eaten well?

I have nothing to offer you
But my sins and the conditionings
Of lifetimes that I have accrued
And stick to, selfishly-
Like some crab to its shell.

I say I love you
But do I really?
I don’t see your face in that hungry child’s
Who didn’t eat today.
I almost did-
But before I could,
I’d turned away,
In shame.

I bought a rose from him
I gave him twenty bucks or so
I could’ve given more but
I just had to look around me.
Right then.

I planted it in the park
That rose
Where lovers come and go
Young and old, like the seasons.

I planted it there
With a prayer-
May people find love in each other
When they come here.

That rose may wither
But your love won’t.
Love won’t.

Jo Mange, Thakur