Stitched Permanent

There’s something above,

an unclear thing,

obfuscated by dust and debris.

Here! This tattered edge,

frayed, old, musky

and moldy, a tapestry

pinned to the ceiling.

I’ll pull it just so

and feel the grime

fall in pieces on my face.

The dust clouds are blinding,

dry and thick, reminding

me of the lining

I just pulled from the sky.

New light below me,

shining on the woven story

of the old things

hidden in the tapestry’s weave.

Sudden realization…

I look skyward,

to a new constellation

that wasn’t woven,

stitched permanent

into my soul’s places.

The fresh air blows

away the dust and

all its traces.


© CGT, 2018.

2 thoughts on “Stitched Permanent

  1. I’m going to have to line up my supposed favorites of yours because this one is definitely a contender too. What gets permanently stitched to my memory is your imagery (quite often). But like the new constellation, the meanings in your poems can be continuously viewed differently and afresh depending on the reader’s place, view, and willingness to see. I can’t stress enough how amazing this poem is to me. I’m blessed to have connected with you because above else, you are one of my favorite poets. (Was that too much for a blog comment?) 🙂

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