Rising, falling, loving and hating,
Living, dying, giving and taking.
What tomorrow brings, we cannot know,
By faith we must walk, by wounds we must grow.
For each of our paths are not the all the same,
Some walk in darkness, enduring much pain.
While others skip foolishly, down the primrose path,
With thoughts only of self and the next wad of cash.
But then there are others, sojourning souls,
Who live to spread mercy and fill life’s great holes.
These are those angels who make our lives bearable,
By their compassion and love, hearts are repairable.
Count yourself blessed if you meet such an angel,
Embrace what they share, and to your own self be faithful.
Notwithstanding this gift of divine help and aid,
Much work lies ahead, but rest! Your fears are allayed.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem