by George MacLean Akurunwa
Rated "PG" by the Author.
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My face tells your stories and mine,
the stories of our lives.
You know me and I know you.
We have met. We met in our faces,
in our stories, in our humanity.
You live where I live. We live on earth,
greeted by the same sun by day
and by the same moon and stars by night.
We drink from the same cup,
the big cup of the ocean,
too big for you and me to empty.
As soon as the day begins
your story and mine begin also.
The world waiting outside for us
rushes in for every bit of us
soon after morning opens its door.
In the dark hours of the day
when the wheels of the will refuse to climb
the steep mountains of life along its way,
when hearts beat fast to keep up
with the twist and turns of the day,
your face and mine wear sadness as a cloth,
betraying you and me.
I wish I could deny this
but it is the story of man,
the story of you and me.
When next you see me
my face will tell you where I have been
and what I have been through.
There will be much to be said,
there will be much to be heard,
though it all depends what time of the day
or year we meet.
Or what day of the week we meet,
if it is a Monday morning
when I must report to my boring job
or a Friday evening when I can go to bed late
and donít have to worry about
waking up early the next day.
Or if it is the end of the month
when all my bills are due,
or the middle of the month
when all bills are paid.
The journey of the day is long.
The burdens of the day are enormous,
sometimes as heavy as the weight of the earth.
My burden is your burden.
We walk through the same motions,
through the same pains,
through the same trials and tribulations.
So when next you see me with a long face,
be kind and gentle, and slow to judge me.
You donít know how heavy my burden is
and how long I have carried it,
and you donít know when you too
must bear your own burden.
We are on the same journey,
the same earthly journey,
the same restless journey.
The earth is a restless planet,
a restless sea, a restless stage,
a stage where the battles for our souls
are fought and won, or lost,
a place where we live and die fighting,
fighting to leave the earth better or worse,
fighting to leave the earth a saint or a sinner.
2011.George MacLean Akurunwa
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|Reviewed by John Domino
|I agrre except for the boring job - how many people today would LOVE any job? Be thankful in all things my friend.
|Reviewed by Clarence Prince
|"We are on the same jouney, the same earthly journey" very true, George!|
|Reviewed by John Flanagan
|...on the same journey indeed, George.
A true pleasure to read this.
|Reviewed by E T Waldron
|Profound thoughts make this poem a beautifully written treasure! Thanks for sharing George...ET|
|Reviewed by Mr. Ed
|We are all on the very same journey, indeed, and your poem truly takes us there.|