A fabric holding all threads together.
Try to hang on, or just let go, allowing
it to hold you.
Where does it catch you up, snag you, and
how do the pendulous swings carry you?
What rocks do you crash against, and where
does your plummeting smash you to a putty
of flesh and bone?
The spirit slithers away becoming dilute
gossamer, not seen again, leaving just
the faint taste of unrecognized memory.
The time spent hurtling between letting go
and being permanently attached.
May Peace be yours, the evolution of spirit.