Count Your Blessings
Today I stood at my window and cursed the pouring rain,
Today a desperate farmer prayed for his fields of grain..
My weekend plans are ruined, it almost makes me cry,
While the farmer lifts his arms and blesses the clouded sky.
The alarm went off on Monday and I cursed my work routine,
Next door a laid-off mechanic feels the empty pockets of his jeans.
I can't wait for my vacation, some time to take for me,
He doesn't know tonight how he'll feed his family.
I cursed my leaky roof and the grass I need to mow,
A homeless man downtown checks for change in the telephone.
I need a new car, mine is getting really old,
He huddles in a doorway, seeking shelter from the cold.
With blessings I'm surrounded—the rain, a job, a home,
Though my eyes are often blinded by the things I think I own.