THREADS
By Wendy : Shywalker

A glimpse of my child's eyes, bright with life,
joins whispers in the wind, giggles of delight.

Small footsteps that walked in the shade of my shadow
now echo behind me, growing faint and hollow.

Arms once full, as I pressed him to my chest,
now hang limp at my side, void of his caress.

Intangible threads they are, or so it would seem --
but threads no less, a bridge to a dream.

That invisible thread keeps him here, in my heart;
but as long as he's there, we are never far apart.