Wind whipped away our threads
Of words, while laughter settled gentle
Down as rain, unforced;
I could not cling to rain or wind.
My fingers would not find the force
Of beauty clenched.
Open,
Strands of life fly through my hands
While I stand watching at an intersection
Of eternities. We do not see the pattern of the present
Looking forward ignorant of hope, but still
Refuse despair. Hope comes sudden as a rush of spring or
Drop of sun when one has waited on the moon.
Mouth-wide-open-wonder at
Our wait of glory.
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