I do not pretend I know prophecy
but these introverses reflect all.
I live in the past future, presently
looking into tomorrow's mirror ball.

2002 is but a memory to me now
in affairs of statements pleasant.
There arose a leader of good virtue
who passed away in silence.

Better was the hero of his generation
who in the old cities dwelt with leaders.
Made good a promise of understanding
and on bended knee brought healing.

Hooded men ran in the hills of Arabia
fought their brother who turned against Allah.
All men trembled at the sound of this man's name.
After his conflagration, he was forgotten.

It will come as no surprise
war will strike with the sparks of crossed swords
Ravaged by iron and fire, love became a new alloy
matches were promised to protect the old ways.

These are just a few thoughts to the aged.
Mornings still come and go.
Nights follow with the mists of diffidence
dreams shatter them to reveal slivers of truth.

In this hour of peaceful reflection
2003 rings clear of hopeful sunrises
In the icy mist of a cold air rain.
Humanity endured and defied terror's requiem.

Quatrains of hope for the year that was 2002, on the eve of 2003.