My stipend in Heaven for all I have done,

Sure, questionable.  Have I helped anyone?

Was Marthas’ activity so useless then?

But who am I to question or condemn?



She has toiled for the Master, all must be right!

Sister Mary did nothing, so is this right?

Should I not find favor in place of her?

Or is my toil useless?  Must I then deter?



Must I abstain from and is my toil useless?

Should I then worship more or the work less?

“She, Mary, has chosen the best part.”

Does not the word then need to be done?

Yes, it is a race that needs to be run!



“Work for the night is coming,” (?)  No!  “It is daylight dawns!

Night for those who perish, living in doldrums.

That is a Southwind heatwave, sluggish in thought,

Never quite up to real living!  Death and then rot.



Slow seepage,  just a trickle, while the mighty stream flows on!

Undisturbed the trickle needs rocks to lean upon!

Help me, Lord!  The cry!  So helpless are we not?

Nothing in this hand extending, so I sought!



Still seeking, the Sam

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