I've been contemplating the concept of trust lately. I even started writing a piece about it, comparing it to a spider's web, sticky and shaky, sending vibrations when encroached upon by nasty insects. Then I put a starter on FB that said, "Trust is..." and waited for the comments, some of which I found sad. Then I remembered that I'd written some things on Trust this past year. As it turns out, I don't need to write a lengthy post after all.
Written 2/24/22
Trust
A delicate web
A spiral,
Radiates.
A small touch,
A test,
Reverberates.
A careless swipe,
A break,
Devastates.
A precious gift,
A choice,
Recreates.
Oh what
A tangled web
We weave.
3 comments:
Trust is earned.
And if you wrote this wonderful poem on 2/24/22, you trust that you will live a VERY long life. (Sorry, friend, couldn't resist.)
LOL! No, 2/24/11. My mom said something similar to me only she said I wasn't that old...
Sometimes I feel like Tom coming into my life reinforced my trust-creating material into a super, Spidey-strengthened rope. ;) I had *never* felt that before. I don't even question it now. Like, at all. Hopefully, it will someday not be so tenuous for you, too. *hugs*
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