Withered and dry we split and crack and yet
we persist. We bend and twist reaching for light.

We struggle, we toil, enjoy a respite. We dream,
we expand, we cannot be contained for too long.

We get old. The markings of time, our wrinkles
and creases, our ridges and grooves, all part of

life's intricate weaving, a tapestry gleaming under
one sun; pick a thread, any thread, feel the tug

that pulls back—we're entwined, we're all one.

---
(Poem written by my wife, Fotini Masika)