There is a hidden thread, a reverence
that runs through the days of our lives
It burns with its own inner light
stitching together the happenstance moments
Taking those inconsequential concordances
connecting them with the seams of certitude

What small threads tie what is worthwhile and right
To form a tapestry of a life well lived
Of grace and care
Of love and the contented heart

So that in the end of days
when all light fades
these frail and shaking hands
can find that thread that made it all worth while.