Broken cisterns

"God my purpose, God my all
Whether I live or die,
My life would ever glorify God
All through my living breath.

My desire, that I be a channel
To others who live in pain
A channel of hope to all around
A blessing to the weary"

Waking up from worship in my airconditioned church
Got out to the heat, oh how scorching!
Beggars all around, I give a ten-rupee note
And pat myself on the back - how great I am !

Young ones crawling on stumped legs
To beg for one more meal
Quietly I pass them by
Snatching away their hope.

I thank my God for my blessings
Oh what a "purpose driven life"
The pastor's rendition, oh so beautiful
In my cozy, homely church!

But for them that crawl, is living a joy
Or is dying wee better than living?
The child in dirty rags who pesters
The old woman who never stops her mumbling!

In the warmth of our homes, our lives
Dying and living, all filled with hope
But to them that suffer all around us
Can our overflowing cup pour in?

Pouring out ourselves for them
Dying, so they may live
That one more little candle is lit
To glow in their small dark corner

Empty lives, empty vessels
All around to be filled
May our fragile lives add in the least one drop
To their parched and hopeless throats.

"Purpose Driven Life" - our thoughts and prayer
We talk endlessly in the house of God
House of God? Or mansions?
Palaces, where God would dread to come?

Better marble, better ambience
Air-conditioning, and red carpets
House of God, or vulgarity of man's wealth?
When the man you can see hasn't a roof for his own?

"Living is God, dying is gain"
My life, is it another's gain?
If not, whether in life or in death
We live, we die, purposeless lives.

Purpose-driven, we think, yet purposeless
If the other is not mine own
If the other is not my own reflection
Till then, let me rest no more!