Who marketed wisdom by the pound.
He hawked it from his office on walls
That proclaimed the wisdom he had found.
I saw fools go in clutching money.
But for true wisdom they had no heart.
They left, money gone, simpler still,
With a sheet proclaiming the shrewd farce.
I wandered in, my money in hand,
Bent on interrogating the man
To judge how valid his wisdom was
And how well recognized in the land.
“This sumptuous wisdom will get ya’
Wherever ya’ want to go,” says he.
“It’s older than dirt yet fresh as mud.
No tricks, just buy wisdom on this street.”
“What wisdom will I gain?” I questioned.
“Smarts aren’t in your head or heart, silly!”
He laughed. “They show up in your paycheck,
And this stuff comes with a sure warr’nty.”
I leaned on his closed door, deflated.
This wisdom was but a sham—a lie!
How could wisdom be bought for brib’ry?
My longing for wisdom was denied .
Then—a pure voice, calling from the square.
I looked ‘round the beggars, dirt, and noise,
Wond’ring who rang those words of challenge.
I charged the streets, pursuing the voice.
And there Wisdom was, calling to me.
“How much?” I despairingly implored.
She smiled at me: “Wisdom is priceless
To those who kneel here, who fear the Lord.”