Heavy Mettle

doubt skips stones

along ridges of my spine.

string,

a fragile thing,

dangles from the sleeve

of unraveling belief.

.

beneath

marrow cleaves

to the bone of existence,

a diffuse beat,

the cadence

of the weaver’s

jeweled feet.

.

drawn from dust,

bared before a trust

in the tenacity

of interwoven destiny,

with love

we begin to reseed.

.

© M.G. Iannucci 2017

Art: Feathers from Hair by Gull G Fine Art America

The basis of true love is freedom. Humanity lives under the fallacy that we are all individuals who have the power to choose our destiny without considering the good of the other. There is a synergy in the recognition of our interconnectedness. Science reveals it within the beauty of interlocking ecologies, yet we have neglected to consider the immense power of the ecology of minds especially when they are joined in crafting a life built from self-giving love.

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