But That It Robs You of Who You Are

– after Kabir


But that it robs you of who you are,

What can be said about money?


Inconceivable, life without it

And dismal to live for,

Money lessens you.


Pay a wealthy man, there is

Much to gain; pay a poor one,

All you get is Thanks.


Kick at a half-empty deposit box, and it

Rings like a temple bell; strike a full one,

Says the Beloved, and only silence answers back.



Published by Jeff Conant

Writer, social and ecological justice advocate, world traveler, family-man, gardener, bee-keeper, baker & tender of life in all her fine forms. Here on The Watering Hole you will find my books, both published, unpublished and in progress, my photographs and artwork, and my short (and long) essays and ruminations here in the late stages of the anthropocene as humanity struggles to turn away from millenia of destruction toward a future of co-existence with all creation…or not.

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