In This Lifetime

It was bliss. It was destiny. It was meant to be. On my way out to walk this morning I met the poet Cataline. With her permission I am reprinting it here. Cataline is her pen name.

In This Lifetime

It is not what there is for the eyes to see
But that you believe

It matters not that one can speak
But what is spoken about

It is not that a heart you possess
But how much this heart can feel

No matter how little you have
The hand that reaches out overflows with love

It is not how many a tear
But what made you cry
For true feelings they may not be
As one by one they die

It is not how heavy the suffering
But how you bear them

It is not how many times life could seem impossible
But if only you keep hoping

It is not how many times the praying
But how you mean them

It is not how saintly or sinful you are
But what made you become

It is not the legion of friends you collect
But how only a few can be that true to you
till the end

For whatsoever in this lifetime
One soul's destiny