Each life begins
In its own place and time.
Distinct. Separate.
A single unique thread
Woven by the Fates
Into the skein
of Life.

Some are short;
Some are long.
Some run straight;
Some loop and twist.
Some stand apart;
Some gather others,
Entwine.

In the end
Each is cut off, ended.
But still a part
Of the one pattern
Into which we all
Find ourselves
Written.

Take even one
And a hole remains.
Its memory impressed
On those it touched.
All so different;
All so similar;
Ordinary.

And exceptional.