Webs

Some parts of what I am (and what I was)
Are bound up in some souls that are not mine.
But that's OK, since nobody who does
Anything can ever hold the line
And keep everyone out - nor should they so.
A soul unknitted to its kin and kith
Is nothing, and exposed to open woe,
While one conjoined and coextensive with
The souls of others, fortified in kind
Is strong and supple, bending against storms
Yet holding strong within its own true mind
Against disaster in its many forms.
The soul is strong that's well-connected out
And that untouched is wracked with fear and doubt.