Did wampum hold early man in thrall? 
Was there a currency that governed him
Stronger than the sky or earth or kin? 
It suits me to think not, instead of real estate,
They cherished sunrises, smoke on far mountains,
The sight of a doe with her fawn, taste of love
Given and taken under wisps of light in the night. 

Mortgage, insurance, braces, medicine, tuition, 
Gas, car payment, lunch money, Christmas Club,
These, all of these and more, twirl an evil dance
Around our heads in the dark when the pillow is hot
And sleep a forlorn wish, with morning offering cold
Daylight that gives no  answers to how to spring the trap. 

We are “to look at the lilies of the field, how they
Toil not and yet . . .” somewhere deep in me desire flickers
With temptation to take Jesus up on his beautiful promise. 
Perhaps the repo man would give me some quarter when
He knows that I am spinning gold from the wild flowers
Growing in such abundance on my blue mountain. 

K. Bruce Florence