WHEN YOU AND I ARE ONE
Once upon a deeper night in the land of hushabye
An angel met an angel and together they did cry.
They cried upon a perfect moment, but never would it come
They cried upon a stopping silence, that ne’re again would run
For moments come and moments go, that you and I, know true
Moments kept and moments lost, no moment, can we renew
For such things are written in our hearts, and shaped in tempered gold
They rise within an instant, they are held within our soul.
They travel with us from birth to death, their path it is not loud.
They never speak, they never shout, they ignore the maddened crowd
They held their time in camps of death at Chelmno and Sobibor
At the place called Thermopylae, they held a reeling roar.
At the feet of Ghandi they did fall, and Madiba held their hand.
Connolly stretchered to their song, Annie Moore, to a new land.
They echo at the French Bastille and when Lincoln honoured Ross
They were seated neath the Bohdi tree and upon a Roman cross.
They are that which we could miss so quick, they happen oh so fast
They never seem so important, we know they’ll never last.
Yet it is these moments, these simple moments, which are separate from mans time.
No fingers touch, no space can catch, this moment, called sublime.
They live the lakes,
They grow the fields,
They hold the moon, the stars, the sun.
They are the perfect moments, when you and I are one.∞
Credits: poem © justme; Image © CatrinPhoto; All rights reserved.