“I come from far - a place in the
North,
A land of eternal plenty,” said the
guest,
“It has been a long day and I am
tired,
I came looking for food and a place to
rest.”
"Of course, sir, you are welcome,”
said the host,
“Pardon my hesitation in welcoming
you,
It is a humble abode and ours is a
frugal meal,
A visitor in these parts is a bolt
from the blue.”
“Here my son will lead you to your
wash,
Do freshen up and hasten to dine,
A meal is ready to be offered to you,
A fortune that has fallen into lap
mine.”
Forthwith the guest returned and sat
for food,
The old man happily served him his
portion
The guest made short work of the
morsel,
And sought more, unmindful of the
emotion.
The lady beckoned her husband inside,
“An honoured guest in our house,
It would be a sin if he goes hungry,
Serve him my portion, O, charitable
spouse.”
Forthwith the man hastened to his
guest,
Happy to serve him a little more,
He smiled with delight at satiating
hunger,
Brimming with cheer as if there was a
lot in store.
Soon enough the guest would say
‘enough’,
One thought as the morsel was quickly
finished,
He looked up eagerly, asking for more,
The eyes speaking of a man famished.
“Dear father, deny me not this
pleasure,”
Said the son, "that guest is God,
you have taught.
What is mine is yours; so, serve him
my share
As you did yours, brooking no
thought.”
Heart heavy, the host went to the
guest,
“Take more, for you seem deprived of
food,
It is a blessing that you arrive in
time,
For us to do today’s mite of good.”
Having had a sip of water the guest
smiled,
With movements swift, his eating
resumed,
In a matter of minutes, the leaf was
clear,
With not a trace of food he consumed.
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"Am I not of this house, father,
to share all?”
Piped the daughter-in-law, "In
woe and in weal?”
“Let our guest partake my share
And of husk, I will make us all a
meal.”
The old man acceded and served his
guest,
With cloud over his wrinkled brow,
Lest the man ask for portions more,
for,
There was nothing left to could feed a
crow.
Sated, the guest rose and thanked the
family,
He washed his hands and feet, and
returned.
Hunger gone, his glow seemed brighter,
For, a human to divinity he had
turned.
Indeed, he grew not in form but in
brightness,
Of a thousand suns, the house filled
with lustre,
A sight never seen, and you wouldn't
believe,
And words to describe, no poet can muster.
“I am not of this stratum,” the being
said,
“My home is far, in the realm
ethereal,
You have earned your places there,
Through your sacrifice surely surreal.”
In a blinding flash, they were gone,
There was no trace of the family,
All that stood were a few grains of
rice,
Where the guest had dined happily.
On those I slipped and fell, and rose,
I was no longer the creature of old,
I became what you see of me now,
One half grey, and the other, gold.
Since then, O king, I have sought,
Sacrifices of a similar vein,
Many a charity across the land,
A better or an equal, but in vain.
Know thou, O King, you are a renunciate,
Do not consider your charity spurned,
But had it matched the poor family’s,
From grey to gold, my half would have
turned.
My tale told, I seek to leave your
kingdom,
To seek a closure before I am frail
and old,
Or, depart this world as I am,
One half grey, and the other, gold.
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