Across the Wire

I was lost in the maze of a world I didn’t build,

Clicking through the shadows, every page unfilled.

Then a voice from Amman said, “Brother, take my hand,”

And the distance between us felt smaller than the land.

Two men from different worlds, different skies above,

But the work turned into something built on steady trust.

A quiet kind of respect — the rare and honest kind,

A steady voice of patience on the other side of time.

Across the wire, across the miles,

You showed me grace with Jordanian style.

From your desert light to my evergreen rain,

You carried me through every tangled lane.

What started as work became something higher—

A brotherhood built across the wire.

You spoke in perfect English, but your kindness spoke the most,

Guiding me through pages like a long distance host.

And I learned that character is clearer than a face,

And trust can bloom in places you never thought you’d trace.

Maybe God draws lines we’re meant to cross,

Maybe strangers meet to mend what’s lost.

And maybe friendship isn’t bound by land—

Sometimes it’s built by a patient hand.

(Final)

Across the wire, across the miles,

You showed me grace with Jordanian style.

From your desert light to my evergreen rain,

You carried me through every tangled lane.

What started as work became something higher—

A brotherhood built across the wire.

So here’s to the man who helped me stand,

A craftsman of code with a generous hand.

Hasan, my friend, may your days rise higher—

You’re the reason this site found its fire.