Entwined in the flowing, golden strands, amongst the seams of time, beyond the threads of meaning, are the stitched, glorified moments when life was thought to make sense.
A knot has been tied and tightened between the seams of time and the threads of meaning, to form a yet another strand called purpose.
The limited length of time seems a mere string when compared the the neverending rope of meaning. We are constantly measuring ever so closely the length of time...
Time is intermingled with purpose and meaning, and we become confused by the strands. We confuse purpose with meaning and can't distinguish the difference. We can't break free of the twine of our existence.
Do not grasp with hands shaking. Do not walk with legs shaking. Do not speak with words hestitating. Do not think with thoughts of fear. Speak with hands of power. Walk with words of wisdom. Grasp life with a steady hand.
See with your hands.
Feel with your eyes.
Either way, the tears end up in your hands.
The twinkle in your eye is like a shooting star. It brings me hope each and everytime I see. I do not wish upon shooting stars, but, this one has landed. It has landed in my grasp. I clench it, and it absorbs into my skin. It travels throughout my body, overwhelming me with a feeling of love. Its destination is a corner of my heart. This corner is reserved for the one that causes me the warmth, the love, the happiness that I have been looking for. I want the twinkle and the look in your eyes to always be the way it is. I never want you to look at me another way. I wish for you never to blink that twinkle away.