|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.