By Emiel F.A.J. Stöpler
Is wealth the money in your pocket?
Or the size of your bank account?
Is it all the stuff we own?
That sits in the attic, where nothing can be found?
Or is wealth a kind, spontaneous gesture?
By a perfect stranger or someone you love?
Is wealth knowing how to wait?
With silence as a treasure trove?
Is wealth a taste for adventure?
For stories, music, art and more?
Is wealth a moment’s joy and happiness?
Or something you hadn’t noticed before?
Is wealth the changing of the seasons?
The rustling leaves of a beloved tree?
Is wealth the abundance that surrounds us?
For all to sense and all to see?