I am a Beggar Man

by R. D. Ashby

I am a beggar man
squatting with his bowl.
People pass, in their eyes
I see their pain
at what should be mine.

If one tosses a coin
its congratulatory tinkle
is debt relief
the meaning of alms
more about donor than me.

Here in my corner
the march of the world
makes me its straggler
but every second
I keep up with it.

I have found something
books don't teach
the packed public street
floats inches above
that where I sit is 'now'.

I am equal
to all those passers-by
it lightens my lot
we share the same moment
the rest is presumption.

I am a beggar man
pitied and despised
but light are those casts
my God is so near
and all time is here.

07-Feb-2006

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