In the crucible
Of the well-heeled
And the, well, heeled
He surrounded himself
With corporate persons
Naught for prophet organizations
Possessed buy a cutting edge currency paper thin
The filing and folding kind
Their foundational hope
Nay only hope
To raze money
Life too be spent
Saving the whirled
From that witch
Is free
From the guilty floating
As the innocent sunk
Of sum cache
Their soul barometer
This poem is my tribute to the nonprofit industrial complex. A fare characterization of non-prophet organizations is their never having enough, money that is — just, like the rest of our culture. I have found both the focus and distraction of money in nonprofit ventures as a poor substitute for their supposed liberation from the stock aid of profit. The noble missions of most nonprofit organizations have become largely moat points collared by the circular nature of rivers of money. I am a huge fan of Jesus culling out our culture with surgical simplicity: “You can’t serve both God and money.” 
The notion that money is the root to our salvation is anathema to every high ideal aspired to in faith traditions across time and cultures. 
This world has bred, many kneads, in the grand inquisition of the yeast of these. The wretched view of chasing money from mourning to knight gives rise to few. The many have material needs, indubitably. Yet as Mother Teresa so aptly noted, “There is more hunger for love and appreciation in this world than bread.” The poor will awe weighs be with us. As we pour ourselves, in too the world, may we be measured buy such worth sow much more than money.
Please feel free to check out Top Pun’s anti-poverty and economic justice designs.
