Rainstorms remind me to be more thankful
When caught in this disappointed handful
For the time that I spent alone on the streets
Now inside my home when it snows or sleets
Grateful to God giving praise when I pray
Behind locked doors where the wolves are at bay
Having a new roof and a warm cozy bed
With good hot meals and a place for my head
Some are still standing in the long soup line
Smelling like wet dogs and cheap screw cap wine
It’s choices they made of their own choosing
Most are smart men who’d rather be boozing
There are new families with kids in soup lines
Victims of lost jobs or the banks some combined
With a clean conscience, not judging, only examine
Is it a lack of faith, sin, trials or predetermined
We are the instruments of His ordained works
If we don’t help who’ll do the framework?
Offer aid and assistance when you can
We are all saved by grace and His plan
– Michael Yost
©2012, poem, Michael Yost, All rights reserved; photograph, Jamie Dedes, All rights reserved
The BeZine 
I like how this begins with gratitude, moves to empathy, and then calls for us to participate in the healing. As the rabbis teach, ours may not be to see the healing (completion) of Creation, but that does not mean we are free from doing the work of healing Creation.
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I expected to see your familiarity with spiritual law, but happier when your rabbi seen. God Bless,
Michael
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