The Needle

Our live's producer makes the play

of comedy and tragedy

And makes all that is meant to be

a needle in a stack of hay -

I reach to gather straw and seed

And writhe within my allergy

Haste to dig for what I need -

to mend my heart from its great bleed -

It isn't large, yet it is rare

Its minute nature makes it so

that rarely is it ever found

yet in the light it will abound -

It mends, it heals, and makes all whole

that ones was fragments on the bench -

And once together, piece by piece

This love will save my very soul