You Never Know
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YOU NEVER KNOW
Did the Russian brewer know his vodka’d splash the face,
Of a thin, dying, sailor, about to leave this place?
Did the cargo captain know his ship would plunge and plow,
Through stormy, gray, swelling seas, so vodka’d mark a shroud?
Did eastern woodsman know the Witch-Hazel tree he fell
That juices in its bark and leaves would hold a gorgeous smell?
Did the plant distiller know that spirits from his plants,
A heady blend of essential oils, would twirl a final dance?
Did aromatherapist know, while making husband's aftershave,
A blend of vodka, Hazel, and essential oils, would be a gift of grace?
Did engineer husband know, while packing up his suitcase,
That flying 'cross the nation, he’d shave ill brother’s face?
Did weakened sailor know his wife would ask his kin
T'scrape a razor ‘cross his face and pucker up his skin?
Did the newfound brothers know the aftershave they shared
Would bond them oh so tight, beyond death's parting glare?
The answer to these questions is that one can never know.
For it is God, through works of man, who directs the blessed flow.
Hannah Rain
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