In the beginning was her hand.
Ever so briefly her hand held mine,
And our hands were as one.
She was with me in the beginning.
Together we could have made plans.
Without others our plans would have been made.
In us there was to be life; and of that life was hope.
The life shone further than reason, which could not explain it.
The life that gives hope to us was just coming into being.
Everything good was possible in it,
Though reason did not comprehend it.
Reasons abounded and crushed this hope.
The life that could have been did not dwell among us.
We never saw its glory, never experienced its joy, never relished its righteousness.
We were never made full by its grace and truth.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I enjoyed reading, Prophmatt. Thanks