The inherent nature of wealth is frenetic
To make, to earn and then to spend,
‘Tis on this alone that man his energies
Does, forever, and his time, expend

While, true wealth itself in contentment lies
Solace, in harmony with the Lord’s desire,
Hidden, asleep, does it silently rest
Away from importuning, the soliciting fire.

The love for lucre does not unite
It does, without exception, only divide,
The right hand unaware of the left’s deeds
You can never, together, two horses ride.

Piles of wealth will gladden the eyes
And, for a while, perhaps, the heart too,
The glitter, the glamour, the incessant clamour
For piles galore, will soon fade and that’s true

For, manifest it will sooner than later
Its raw and ruthless side bare
For, nothing but for itself has it regard
For nothing else does it even care

‘Cause, it is the Master and we the slaves
That is how, callously, it behaves,
The calm that prevailed before it arrived
Given way to lashings of stormy waves.

Wealth, marches to its beats alone
It’s drums and trumpets all its own,
Nothing allowed to intervene
Nothing extraneous, nothing unknown.

It’s prone to exaggeration, a bit
It’s dark roads not well lit,
Winding paths and misty fronts
It’s also prone to fly and flit

But, used well it has its uses
To feed the hungry and the poor
To give their lives a meaning new,
Those that live on the edge
A foot or two off the cliff
Living, worthlessly, with no clue.

Not all sad and dreary then
Wealth in the hands of good women and men,
Offers it some redemption, it does
Amen!

(The author is a prolific poet who has over 40 poetry books to his credit. He can be reached at ashoksawhny06@gmail.com)