
Weaving mysteries to life in holy repose: The golden, glint thread that moments enclose; Shining light on the deep-crimson binding cord; Leaving questions behind like scraps to be stored. • • • • Intricate beauty designed above is seen In ugly, knotted tangles when viewed underneath. The pattern is hidden in mystery's pain; This paradox echoes life's unending refrain. • • • • Dark threads of sorrow are passed through the loom The empty silence of sadness, cold like a tomb, Sharpens the senses for the bright threads of joy; The intertwining story that darkness cannot destroy. • • • • Tears may exist in this tangled world's mess Sense may be the disguise for only a guess Peace shall be found in leaving the mysteries to be--- All that a mystery is before eyes of faith see: • • • • Wisdom beheld in the golden thread's mystery, Grace bestowed in the crimson cord's history, Mercy transforming the dark threa...