Written by:

Zerayn D.

When you were born to morning’s gentle light,
And I when western shadows claimed the sky,
Should we accuse the stars that shine so bright?
Should we demand the Maker tell us why?

When first you touched the earth in cloth so fair,
With cotton soft and fur around your feet,
While I knew only skin laid bare,
Should we blame the ground on which we meet?

When you were nourished by warm bread and milk,
And I by humble grains and herbs that grew,
Should we condemn the fields of green and silk?
Or question hands that made us both anew?

When you first opened eyes in walls of stone,
And I beneath a farmer’s weathered roof,
Should we fault houses for the lives we’ve known?
Or ask the Maker for a different truth?

For all the ways our paths are set apart,
Must grief compel us heaven to defy?
I choose to stand with peace within my heart;
I will not measure yours against mine.

For there is purpose written long before,
A destiny no mortal hand can sway.
Though each is shaped unlike the one before,
We’ll find our place when dawn becomes the day.

So I shall neither measure nor compare
The road appointed unto thee and mine;
For every soul is held in equal care,
And every difference serves a grand design.