There is the famous image of life
as a a tapestry which we view from behind—
all the messy bits and loose threads
funny bumps and rough edges—
until we reach Heaven
and see things as they really are.

But there is one thing I see already
even here below—
that the threads are not all mine,
that there are streaks of beauty and colour
which come from my friends.

That the fabric that holds me together
is woven from the love and courage
of women who have suffered
and hoped again,
who have lost everything and dared try again,
who have laughed and cried with me,
who have shared my deepest pain
and greatest joys. 

You make me strong.
You carry me forward.

You are forever woven
into the fabric of my heart.