Begins the thread, rich tapestry’s breadth,
embroidering love, we are warp and weft.
Striving for closeness with spaces between.
A purpose, meaning, being heard and seen,
unique affinities that transcend death.

Our souls bound more tightly with every breath.
Luminous spirits seek to coalesce,
with a fineness only hearts can glean
begins the thread.

Wishing to savor every moment we are left.
Without the other we are rendered bereft.
Not wanting to awaken from the dream.
Love, the pinnacle of our lives, it seems.
When we reach an end, though naught appears left,
begins the thread.

M. Zane McClellan

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