Prayers Can Be Said Anywhere

On the pavement she sat,

A frail child on her sparsely clothed lap,

With a pleading look in tear filled eyes,

Beckoning every passer-by for alms.

 

Some gave a pitiful glance,

Some pretended not to look,

Headed for a temple,

And waiting to buy offerings for the deity.

 

I stopped by her,

And instead shared the money with her,

Her gratified look that seemed to bless me,

And my own prayer for poverty to end,

Made me turn back my steps,

Away from the temple,

For my prayers had been said,

And blessings too received,

At least for that day.