We walk in this borrowed world,

sharing loves and dislikes, coldness and caresses,

managing to create new hopes from disenchantment,

on cold nights knowing there will be a new tomorrow. 

We are not given to know the due date of the loan,

nor how much we will have to pay in principal and interest.

We ignore what return we will have on investment

that we have done.

They call us humans, travelling just like on a bus

with no scheduled stops and an unknown destination.

We were left with some laws, also many legends,

dictated by a Creator and ancient ancestors,  

who soon ignored us, hiding their faces,

as if repentant to create, raising, and strengthening us.

People say a promised land awaits us,

where milk and honey flow in abundance, and ashamed evil  

always hides and has no shelter.

It is part of the legends, but we consider it as a law,

we, a generation that amalgamates all the will and desire

of all the righteous who have preceded us.      

This poem and all others at this blog, authored by Edilson Afonso Ferreira ©

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