Delicate, weeping branches
whisper in the wind
calling to that
small and quiet
Voice within.
Barren branches
here and there
with no apparent life
suddenly bloom
like a livened heart.
This bloom of yours – of life,
with all those tiny threads,
is held together
in a scarlet, fertile
Heart.
I see in you
those rare rich moments
when I truly do not know
where I end
and you begin.
I am but a tiny thread
yet thread I am
with you
as we cleanse and weave ourselves
and all of us at once.
This is our dance,
you and me,
tiny threads holding us together,
cleansing and blooming
the Heart of who we truly are.
This is our dance,
you and me,
held and woven
by the invisible, mystical
threads of Grace.
