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Threads


The seams of life are not so tightly sewn
They tend to come apart with normal wear
As each one opens up you feel the cold
And so it goes as more and more unfold
Until your over-burdened soul is bare

The pleasure and the pain you felt at home
Mean nothing once you've shed your thread-worn clothes
But when you fly above all heart and mind
Without the earth, the water, fire, and air
There's little to be lost and less to find

At last you will return to worldly ways
And make the best again of taking form
You'll dress yourself in garments made of days
Seemingly so comfortable and warm