Out at a pub with you
I feel my blessed luck in every moment,
the threads of chance converging once more.
I know it's too early for certainty,
but I stole a glimpse at the tapestry formed:
it wrapped itself up around my heart –
recently reformed and reforged in sacred flame
with every careless madness scorched away
and all my doubts withered under a blazing sun.
What luck it was not to have met earlier,
to have our paths meet too early to intertwine
the tapestry would fray at every seam
becoming unwound with every step forward
though the ground collapsed beneath our feet
and forced us to forge ahead to survive.
Now here under the light of a half moon
we sit and share in each other's presence
every thread of chance interlaced with fortune –
I propose a toast in our luck's honor,
to the tapestry we are sure to weave.
-Zero
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