deepundergroundpoetry.com
The Weaver
A golden thread
Caught around my throat
Strangling my life
Frayed and knotted
Through a thousand days of neglect
A tapestry of who I am
Lays unfinished, unframed
Folded up and tucked away
In a forgotten drawer
For an eternity
Waiting for the weaver
To remember her calling
To become one with the cord
And untangle the solitary disarray
Of an eon of unattended agony
For her to finally reveal the panorama
Of an inner countryside
That has been lost
And has waited a thousand nights
To be rediscovered again
Caught around my throat
Strangling my life
Frayed and knotted
Through a thousand days of neglect
A tapestry of who I am
Lays unfinished, unframed
Folded up and tucked away
In a forgotten drawer
For an eternity
Waiting for the weaver
To remember her calling
To become one with the cord
And untangle the solitary disarray
Of an eon of unattended agony
For her to finally reveal the panorama
Of an inner countryside
That has been lost
And has waited a thousand nights
To be rediscovered again
Published 10th Sep 2009
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 0
reading list entries 0
comments 1
reads 757
Commenting Preference:
The author has chosen not to accept new comments at this time.
Anonymous
10th Sep 2009 00:56am
The poem is like one long, delicious metaphor. And the imagery is just exquisite. Good work!
