It is to you I write and to nobody else.
Generous. Thoughtful. Sincere and Cheerful –
Those traits you have
In common across.
You give, you give
In season and out –
Birthdays, Christmas, Festivities –
But the ordinary day?…
Now, that’s a surprise
– with pleasantness, of course!
I won’t pretend that I cherish you,
Your gifts and all,
A hundred percent.
For truth be told:
My attitude falls short
Of Your steadfast acts.
It is easy, you see,
To overlook
The familiar and constant,
Where contempt is bred.
Yet in moments of silence
I muse and I see,
That it’s no small matter,
To receive and receive.
For what have I got
To warrant such grace?
Flaws? Quirks? I have in galore –
You know, you know –
And still give away.
What more can I be then
But thankful I am:
So thank you and thank you
For warming my heart –
And if that’s not all,
– you enrich my world!
Yes, through your gifts
– as I would otherwise not have –
I see, touch, smell,
Hear and taste
Anew and afresh
Of the world’s good things.
Blessed is receiving
But more blessed to give?
What was the Rabbi thinking
When he said it like that?
To give is to die,
A sacrifice of sorts.
But if dying is not living,
Then how can you be
Happy in pro-choice,
‘Dying’ away?
Love perhaps –
As sacrifice no doubt –
Might provide the clue
To the answer we seek –
Or still perhaps,
O Givers across –
Teachers, Lovers, Family and Friends –
That you can tell us:
What gains you get when giving abounds?
*Image Source: My Own


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