A Rock and a Book

One day as I trod
through the forest, Earth,
I met some strange men
who called themselves
Children Without Worth.

They were small and green,
with funny brown hats
and each carried a
big leather-bound book
in his blue leaf sack.

Upon the various
grey and black rocks they
made their home, nothing
was there to call theirs
save a bit of stone.

"My, what poverty!"
cried I. But "Nay," said
them, "no poverty
resides with us!
We live like kings here."

"How could this be so?"
when you have no toys,
no technology,
no beer and no wine,
surely you are poor!

"Without toys, dear friend,
you cannot play! Lack
technology, beer,
and wine, you cannot
party, surf, or drive."

Then to my dismay
(For I didn't think
of how my words might
hurt) they began to
cry and moan like ghosts.

Abashed at my
heartless speech, I spoke
gently to them, "Peace,
friend, these lacking joys
can quickly be yours."

But on they wept like
widows mourning for
their lost spouse. Their sad
blue tears flowed like
a rainbow without hues.

Finally, one said,
"We do not mourn our
so called lack, no.
Instead, we cry for
you, Man. So lonely
you existence must
be! To bank your joy
on such hopeless things!
How could man-made crafts
bring fulfillment, friend?

"No, tall man, you are
the one living in
poverty's mansion,
you are the one who
lacks so much, poor soul.
Keep your beer and wine,
your parties and drives,
your techno-babble,
it does no good. You
are mistaken, man."

Thus I concluded,
"Give me only a
home on a Rock, and
a thick leather-bound
book in my hand and
I shall be rich, indeed."