Of character,
There is a sustained acceptance,
A defiance and a patience,
That understands the umbilical chord
Between the beginning and the end.
Time sculptures each face
with chisel and spike,
Mixes it’s charismatic dye
In the eyes of man;
Spits blood
Forms teardrops of mud,
Then hands it to us as manna,
And labels it “love”.
Who am I?
Who are you?
Where are we, really?
And if this be all our experience
Has sustained,
Let us have our moment,
And make ourselves
Something special,
Something worthy of our name.
Photograph is of Abraham/aka “Arthur Goldwater”. Father of my friend Lisa Goldwater – she is a testament to her parents, a woman with a heart of gold, which is fitting of course 😊.
