You know, or, at least, you should know,

that we are all related,

without any exception.

On that sixth day of the week of Divine Creation,

in a land named Paradise, we were all made

by the same mold, same measurements, same shape.   

Man was created in the first stage, and after,

like a bonus, God gave birth to the woman,

companion, lover, wife, and mother,  

the first joint venture, never before

even imagined or dreamed.

Then, we have become equal to our Lord,

and have, for countless years, given life and breath

to our families, beloved sons and daughters.

Equaled by race and common parentage, may we struggle

to honor what had been granted to us, raising our genesis

with so great a love, which will lead us, without any delay,

to that Holy Land, by history and right, our first home.

(Published in West Ward Quarterly, Summer 2025 printed issue)

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