From the Ether Tapestry

Written by: William J. Jr. Atfield

From the Ether

A love came to this one from beyond
the visual, the physical, from beyond
the conscious – the heart is the ghost,
the spirit trapped within this plane - 
it can not let go, nor fly into that good night 
- with all that was and was not, still hanging on -
keeping it from fading into the passing light,
light on the wings of time’s never ending flight.
B. J. “A” 2
September 1st  2008


Lady Fair, pulls at my heart strings.
No design, no effort, no desire brings 
her into the fires of Love, for me.
A person, a man, a lover she does not see.
Taking hold of my thread bear heart,
unraveling it, until it is a part
- of nothing – nothing left of my heart shaped beat
but frayed fibers of light reflected, refracted, neat
upon the cold whims of stolidity – taken into shadows of.
into the hands of, the mind of death’s journey.
The aura of my tapestry, my forlorn love still hangs, 
meaning little more then  specks of dust, floating,
drifting upon beams of light streaming through 
the distances between, what is me and what is you
before you turned your back, extinguishing the light,
the light of love, you choose not to accept, 
nor want to hear, leaving it to drift upon waves
of shadows that permeate the darkness of all
your denied, all your buried emotions, that
the tapestry of, turned to dust, hides. 

A will-o-the-wisp, 
upon the tapestry you wove,
has become me and my love. 

B. J. “A” 2
September 1st  2008