A cruel war was being fought, oh, still a million miles away,
and our young hearts rejected every gloomy thought,
while merrily we danced, and drank, and sang, and played
the old, old games of chance, that New Year's Eve of 1939,
till, at the stroke of twelve, all church bells started ringing,
their centuries-old greetings to the new-born year...
But, if that war was really such a distant thing,
why did those bells have such a haunting ring,
still joyful, but with undertones of grief?
No one was willing to explain why, suddenly,
life seemed so strangely precious, as were
the hugs and kisses that were shared at twelve...
Outside, where jasmins bloomed in fragrant splendor,
stood you and I, in silent apprehension of new blessings,
benignly smiled upon by wise old mother moon, although
she sadly recognized another version of that old, old story,
the one she knew might end too soon in times like those,
when death was no respector of young love...
Then, suddenly, for seven seconds, ten maybe,
your lovely little hand lay trustingly in mine,
no questions asked, no answers given, we needed none.
All fears and shadows fled, our hearts began to sing,
we knew with blessed certainty that, by the grace of God,
we would share far, far more than seven seconds of eternity!
Willem VanVoorthuysen
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/silent-promises/
