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by Jack Fox

Omar Khayyam was known to write a precious line or two,
About some serious points of life, for him and me and you.

The Moving Hand to which he referred, in such a prophetic way,
Was just as true then as it is now, as we go from day to day.

It gives me pause to think about the journey of our lives,
The ins and outs, the ups and downs on which our soul thrives,

To me life seems as a furrow we plow, going step by step along the way,
Each day we look back at what we’ve done, and how straight the furrow lay.              

Some times we veer left and sometimes right as we strain to keep straight and narrow,
But roots and rocks encumber our way, as we struggle with our life’s moral harrow.

Still on we march at our steady pace, each clod we turn as we go,
Avoiding pitfalls as best we can, hoping our deviations won’t show.

The straighter the furrow the greater the pride, with strength and focus and grit,
For as the man said, so long ago, “Nor all thy tears wash out a word of it.”

So on we press from morn to night, as yet we strive to be
The straightest furrow in the field, from now to eternity.

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