Before the fox,
The hunting game;
Before the hounds
Take careful aim.
Before the cut off
The blade is sharpened
As the whetstone spins.
Before the ashes, fire;
Before the storm, the
Before the fox, the hunt;
Before death, sweet life.
Before the cut, the knife
Sharpened upon the
Before love, the
Queasy and the
Of a hopeful heart.
Before the smile, cry
Before the walk, crawl,
Before the run, take few steps once more
Before the light, there is endless night
Before success, failure cease
Before praise, criticism face
Before pleasure, there is deep nuisance
these all are part of life, the name of a game
Before the rain, earth cries like a thirsty girl
Before the tears of happiness, there is a fake smile of lust
Before the cool breeze of spring, winter bites bones
Before the light of hope, there is darkness of gloom
Before friend, stranger
Before healing heart, there is a wounded soul
Before love, the queasy rumbling of a hopeful core.
Before the peaceful sleep, there is a night full of dreams.
( Note: This poem is a joint venture, which have been written by me and Dennis McHale. He has a wonderful poetry blog The Winter Bites My Bones. If you are a lover of poetry then please visit this blog for a marvelous experiences. Thanks Dennis for giving me special privilege of working with you. )