for shelly until we all get it right

in time we transcend this form
to weave our tapestry of change
into yet another chance
to wear this robe of love;
feeling no more use for time
formed into a completion
only light unto light can see
how meaningless the words
of this poem;
how often we die
is not a true measurement
of the number of lives
it will take
for us
to reach beyond ourselves

     lloyd marbet 5/11/98