On the Loom

strands of connection,
the golden warp of existence,
without which
the weave of daily life,
its myriad colors of events
and people and circumstances,
becomes as impossibly unsolid
and instable
as a tree without a trunk,
stars without a night sky,
sunlight severed from its fiery source;
without which
the weight of a single life,
its accumulated sorrows
and disappointments and grief,
becomes as impossibly unsupportable
and unbearable
as an elephant upon an ant’s back,
space without time,
the heart of man severed
from its fiery source