All Beggars

Less than dust,
I scrape, scratch,
grub for something to fill
more than stomach
more than a day.

I plead and pray,
woo and worry the Lord.
He pours in, coaxes out
till I unfurl like flower
toward warmth and light,

then He turns, tips
my vision earthward
where others still search,
still hope like so many seeds
to sprout in the sun.

• Read more of my poetry at www.facebook.com/latterdaysaintpoetry

• Contact me atmerrijane.rice@gmail.com