A poem describing progression |
First one at first word Loose, slack. Clinking as It swings freely in the air. Neither side pulls on it but The chain is still there Here swings potential The second one is harder to form Link by link, every meeting, word, A small piece added. It is a shared chain It is a simple chain It is named friendship The third chain is unique One side builds it quickly. Yet, it is tainted. The other side was molded With shaking hands, slow to believe, slow to trust. The first half he calls courage. The second half she calls hope. Fourth one, both ends anchor the chain It is built together, starting from one initial point; one act of hopeful courage. It spreads from there. Both anchors adding their frustrations, their fears, their sorrows and their joys. This is the fourth chain. Referred to as intimacy This fourth chain is special This chain will continue to grow Life cultivates intimacy. Every sunset, more sorrow Every dawn, more joys More shared, every little moment strengthens the chain. Intimacy grows And the final chain grows too. Starting small, almost unnoticed. One can feel tugs on the heart Not forceful, not sharp desired pulls willing answer. Love is the sacred chain that does not bind does not trap but does connect. It joins does not restrict does not constrain that cherished bond titled Love |