The days rushing by in short hours,
With a relentless pace of things to be done,
With barely time to think of grander things,
The golden thread lost in the maddened din,
The constant noise and lists and screens.
What should be remembered is quickly forgot.
Today I slowed my world’s activity,
Achieving reduced to one kind act,
That will set the whole world right,
Despite my life’s efforts to hurry on,
I paused to weave a thread of hope,
That draws to me to know I belong.
The golden thread weaves through my life,
Bringing together desire and reality,
Binding that tragic gap of unknown,
To bring me to a clearer certainty,
Of accepting what is here and now,
And, then to know what is certain to come.
