In my many years before the mast
I’d seen rocks and shoals conspire
To ground me down to powder
Till I was just dust in the wind,
And I’d never even been to Kansas.
I was useless as a one-armed paper hanger,
Skilled in the geometer’s art,
But no closer to infinity
Than the day I’d started out.
Just a journeyman aesthete
Dressing drywall plaster
With those tapestried patterns
Favored by the rich and famous.
But, being a lifelong learner,
I learned to breathe.
I learned to eat.
I learned to say, “No.”
I became a student of the universe,
Composer of the mini-verse,
Somewhere to the left of Earth.
Mainlining the vagus nerve
On the highway leading home.
And there’s no place like home.
I must be doin’ somethin’ right.
Categories:
tapestried, allegory,
Form: Blank verse
“The wound is the place where the light enters you.” … Rumi
God’s consistent plan as tapestried for man's time
and blessing-stiched with knowledge threads divine,
decrees that His cherished children faithfully heed
the spiritual growth pains may gain when hearts bleed.
Since the first sad tears from first eyes shed thundered rain,
God has universally issued and used pain
so His children would each yearn to call out His name.
Without dark as hurt fraught, none would seek His light.
Wounds serve to swerve all towards knowledge beyond ourselves
for answers His love-light shines brighter than all else.
Categories:
tapestried, faith, god, prayer, spiritual,
Form: Rhyme