Forgiveness and Forgetfulness

Once it was that I stole the diary of a Job.
His case was interesting and the margins
held the most exciting parts of the problems.
Toward the end of his life his certainties
grew fainter than the ink in which
the best of it was written plus numerous
dialogues pertaining to the coma.
A very long time indeed he lay sleeping,
practically all of his life for sure.
At last there were possessions to be divvied
and spite to be had in the name
of his well known polygamies and infatuations.
This Job loved women or so he thought.
He loved books and movies, light and statues.
There was a fondness for food and temptation.
As a thief however, I cannot remain blameless
so I promised to write a dedication
to all that this Job might be or was.
Human. All too human and not the best prophet.


*Alas, it is sometimes a mystery where things go and where they come from. Mostly, they are not my own but come from the Sustainer and Creator but this one is definitely mine. I own it and know that some things and some people deserve the last chances even if it isn't me that needs to offer it to them. Those offers come from On High. Never too late to apply you know. It is hard I know, to understand this thing. It isn't meant for everyone. Allah knows though what lurks in the hearts of men and women...closer than your own jugular they say.