Family

by David L. Allen

Time, and space, and all mankind,
All seem so disconnected.
Coeternal. Asks the mind,
Whereby directed?

All persons separate, quite distinct,
Not any duplications.
By one thing only are we linked,
Traced through the generations.

When conceived, we're touched by two,
But only for an instant.
Untouched again until we do,
No contact makes us distant.

With those few links to build upon,
Perhaps the scheme's detected.
God's will shall not be wholly done,
Til' families are perfected.

DLA, '72
© Copyright 1997 David L. Allen. All rights reserved.