Poor Richard in the Desert

Poor Richard in the Desert

Money is like moving water.
If you only have a thin trickle, use it for drinking.
If you have access to a small stream, spruce up: clean, grow.
If you’ve got a real creek going - jump, swim - enjoy!
With a wide river, you can build mills, explore, connect, trade;
mighty waterways shape the whole of everything. They change whatever.

But change can destroy.
Moving water can be the flood that drowns your whole life making
everything you touch feel sticky and burdensome.
Moving water can be a tidal wave that forces others to flee or
to be crushed before its raw power! (congratulations, I guess?)
Moving water can be tears, simple tiny tears: sour, unpotable.

When moving water dries, people will leave to find out where
the moving water went; we will flock, always, to the moving water;
for where moving water never touches good things never prosper.

Money is not the root of evil. Money is rootless.
We can direct its course. We can block it with dams.
We can hoard it in our reservoirs and during droughts
we can refuse access or we can share.
What we do depends on where and when we think money will come again.

But I don’t know what I should think, but I know that
I don’t think that there has ever been a child
who grew up to be called adult
without seeing a little rain, even
the nomads of the driest deserts and
these people are very poor.

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