When the great plates slip |
and the earth shivers and the flaw is seen to lie in what you trusted most |
look not to mere solidity, to weighty slabs of concrete poured |
or strength of cantilevered beam to save the fractured order. |
Trust more the tensile strands of love |
that bend and stretch |
to hold you in the web of life that's often torn but always healing. |
The shifting plates, the restive earth, |
your room, your precious life, they all proceed from love, the ground on which we walk together. |