Opposing Hands

I strongly believe that the wheels of fate Are not controlled by some empty chance, For if they were, I would not have found Your life-turning love and gripping romance. I believe there’s some unseen benign hand That spins the direction and the strides of men Toward the compass of their ultimate joy; And that arm led me to your sweet poetic pen. Your syrupy kiss is not the work of mere luck, It is the considerate ordination of the divine arm That comforts lonely hearts and sullen spirits And waters the arid hearts with caring calm. But then there is another opposing hand That tosses whatever Providence has wrought; The evil hand of hate and greed and parsimony, One that smothers love in the face of drought.