My two coppers

My two coppers
 
My words ring hollow if they have not
the hope and heart I intended
 
when I first strung them together.
They are my lepta, the two coppers
 
I drop into the coffer; the best I can offer.
My pockets are empty of all else;
 
a trifle yes, but through God’s grace,
a blessing, perhaps, somewhere to someone
 
and a worthy offering to my Lord –
a richness that has blessed already
 
this impoverished poet who first received
and then shared them with the world.
 
O child of God, offering your poems to the Beloved
is the return of your gift to the Giver.