From Where I Sit

From where I sit, above the  earth,

I see the way the threads weave through

the tapestry; each knot and stitch

is planted with a plan in view.

When down below, my eyes don’t sense

the way the Artist plots and schemes;

the colours clash, the pattern fights

against itself in rowdy seams.

But if I lift my gaze aloft,

appraise the whole from ladder height,

my heart is thrilled to see the plan

that weaves me in, with threads of light.

Advertisements

Breach

Click to visit the original post

Image courtesy of PHOTOSTEAM

Structure is crumbling.

Like shark to blood, you circle,

Sensing and feeding on weakness,

Delighting in predation’s power;

You press your attack

With peace treaty crumpled underfoot,

Mounting ladder to scale boundary hastily erected.

Had you come

A humble visitor to doorway,

I could have extended the invitation

For tea.

But when my sentries spot your ladder,

They sound the alarm

And hunker in bunkers to repel another

Breach…