On the soils of life are printed
The deeds of the living and the dead.
Walking through I saw
With admiration and despair,
The footprints of Prudence and Folly.
Who through persistence
And diligence in action,
Have printed marks indelible.
Going beyond the shores
Like a journey without return,
They wondered amidst bright and pale flowers.
Knowing that destiny
Like the gathering of clouds,
Has collected enough moisture;
And the rains are inevitable.
In the bank of their thoughts
Are the reserves and the returns
Of their toil on the soils of life.
LOUIS SITSOFE HODEY, AUGUST 2011.
Just a sober reflection of our exercise of discretion here on earth. God has granted all men the privilege to choose one way of life or the other; but such decisions inevitably determines the eternal destiny of each individual.
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