Friday, May 01, 2009



His caring hands very gently worked,
Endless strands of interwoven thread,
Creating a cloth of beauty to behold;

Taking only a moment of His eternity,
He surveys the work of His hands,
A blanket covering time new and old;

With great loving kindness,
He begins to tear this magnificent tapestry,
Into small tattered souls;

Each possessing it’s own beauty,
Fiercely independent even,
but feeling the want of the whole;

With deliberate intent,
He sets about scattering,
Covering the earth with the common thread;

“Let them feel the need,
Let them search through the land,
For the cloths, born of the kindred;”

With joy and sorrow,
We travel through this land,
So rich and so vast;

We touch lightly together,
Sensing the Tapestry,
Threads of our past;

Wandering scraps of cloth,
Always seeking and pursuing,
Weathered and worn;

Living a lifetime together,
Finding and loving those,
From the tapestry torn;

Throughout the journey of friendship,
Our life becomes quite the patchwork,
Discovering common threads;

Flowing behind as we walk,
A stunning legacy of deeds,
Sewn with experience’s threads;

A lifetime of finding and losing,
Of holding and letting go,
Of soul companions and Kindreds;

And the Master,
weaving still,

Ron Simpson, Jr.

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