Twelve Strangers
Twelve strangers in a canoe
stroke in sync.
They glide along in glassy
waters—calm.It makes me wonder as I stop and think.
They do remind me of a living psalm.
The sky, the sun, the air acts as a balm.
How can this be in days of dire distress—
cooperate without a single qualm?
There deep within lies will to coalesce.
In all hard hearts could there reside a chink?
I pray all eyes will open to the Link.
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