The Thread

silken single thread
nature’s web of life weaving
the dawns and seasons

Peace still exists:
it is in the stillness,
in the first soft light of
dawn’s shadow-displacement,

when the heavens descend
and dust creation
with a coat of gold
equally in every nation,

each new day, a gift
like fresh snow’s
pure, printless blanket.

Peace is impervious
to extinction;
its persistent existence benignant
in perpetuum flourishing.

Peace needs not to be sought,
comes not in revelation;
it is in every detail
discreetly threading

this moment and the next
through seams that glisten.
Look closely for the evidence
that we are all connected.

6 thoughts on “The Thread

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