The selvage

The thread is fine now
As thin as gossamer
Shimmering in the light

There is a strange beauty
In these times
Of holding, and letting go

I never believed in the fates
Spinning, weaving
Waiting, releasing

But now I see your place
In life’s tapestry
So clearly

My eyes may be wet
Yet my heart is full
You are part of the pattern

Note: This is a poem I originally wrote for a very special man, Richard Cooke, who passed away last month. He was at the centre of possibly the most generous and creative family I have ever encountered, people who are incredibly dear to me. The sadness of his passing was accompanied by a great sense of love from those around him, and a life well-lived – a passage into the beyond that was moving to witness, even from a secondhand distance.

In the last few months, a number of people close to me have experienced loved ones entering these end of life stages. I was repeatedly touched by the grace and bravery that accompanied these moments, and I found myself sending these words to them as well.

Although this poem originated with Richard, it has also come to mean something much bigger – which seems an even more fitting tribute in its way.

So if you need it, this poem is also for you.

Photo by Ethan Bodnar on Unsplash