It Is Written

We all are born and we all shall die in some sad way,

Diverse are the paths we struggle along to live our days,

Each life lived is a unique swath cut thru time and space,

Along that path life takes many strange and eventful ways.

It is written… In the ancient Koran, from an Arabic land,

That when Husband and Wife Hand Fasted, Join-Hands,

Their sins slip from their fingertips… as lip meets tender lip.

God alone knows how many have been the sins on my hands!

But along the way life touches life, so if separated we must be,

It is because we swore with blood, that each of us, you and me was free.

Love knows no distance, yet fleetingly, poverty binds us from each other.

The greatest loves stand all tests, when eye to eye we look and we see…

Should not we, hold on fast, and make time for each other,

Losses and grief are fated for all… for father and for mother.

Share it all in loves passion--  when spirits touch, it’s all for the good.

Oh, steal an hour for me beloved, even though you live with another.