It was a beautiful fabric.
Woven of fine gold and silver threads,
And the colors of the rainbow.
Shimmering in the sun
Twinkling under the stars.

A small imperfection appeared
Barely noticeable by most.
Ignored, it became weighted
Suddenly tearing the fabric
Demanding attention.

Cold air blew in
Shivering, I backed away
Looking for a place to hide
Still disbelieving as I moved.

In my corner
Where nothing was the same,
I could see that ugly tear
And still feel the coldness around me
As I looked for a needle and thread.

It shook my faith
I believed that cloth was indestructible
Nothing is, though.
Even love can be fractured
When the first splinter is ignored.

Studying the tear now,
It wavers in the now subsided wind
Hanging there
Waiting to see
If a needle and thread can make it whole again.

Can it be restored
To it’s original beauty?
Or perhaps become stronger
Where the tear had been?

Or will we,
Once again,
Ignore it until the cold wind blows again
And rips it to shreds?