On days I fear the threads which binds our souls
Cannot the rage of winter winds withstand,
I conjure up your face, and sit and spin
A few more threads and twist them with my hand.
When span of granite shore to red clay soil
Pulls taut and pains those threads along their length
I think upon your kisses sweet, all while
I spin and twine more threads to give them strength.
When doubting friends their cynicism show
And say ethereal threads must be a lie
I tell them: pluck a note or draw a bow
And know a thread’s for more than just to tie.
For fragile cords that loving hearts make strong
Cannot by man nor nature be undone.