Time's Weavings, As I Brood Upon Them

Time's Weavings, As I Brood Upon Them Shut inside windows open W I D E I age 1,000 years To your one. The Past turns in tight circles upon the Present, Inscribing itself in memories Lending textures to the future, Pains and pleasures, Loves and losses, Bitter, sweet, All fall together to become tomorrow, To break apart and cycle on again. Outdoors, beyond a window full of November's clouds A child runs gaily past, While up the street, with ancient, measured tread, A crone approaches; Youth and age will meet and cycle 'round again. I turn grey thoughts within my mind, Composing poems as Significant Others Drift in and out of the rooms of my life, Now babe, Now child, Now youth, Now adult Now gone. Friends and lovers weave the warp together, Light and shadow chase one another through the rooms, Whispering secrets of change.