When young, we were forgiving.
Clasped hands, boy and girl together, the world spinning in
blurry colors,
Dawns and twilights indistinguishable from the next whispered
moment.

Then the years took over
Groups and cliques formed and disintegrated like ash in the wind
Thoughts, feelings. All pulling you along with them, out of control.
The hands loosened their grip and you drifted
Across the starry sky like diamonds,
Light and lifted softly to the wind.

Until anchored, a vessel at rest once more.
Creaky, even rotten in places, your sails still strong.
Your ropes take hold and drift you slowly back into your blurry,
Spinning universe, where hands were once clasped, boy and girl
together. Man and woman together.

And when the world grows dark, when there are thorns where there
were once roses,
We will soar into the sky clasping hands, together.