Words, like pieces in a puzzle
shifting about until they fit
a picture made of words
a thought made visible
a dream given flesh
formed and shaped
by a mind driven
finding a moments peace
in the glory of that work
before the next calls you on
This is something I wrote back around 2000:
Words Like Threads
I send to you these words,
wound up like silk threads
on a bobbin,
shiny, and soft,
where you can see the twist
helixing around in shimmery spirals.
I send you these words,
like threads wound about a shuttle,
ready to be woven in and out
as the fabric is made,
too weak perhaps for warp,
but perfect for weft.
I send you these words,
like linen thread, sun bleached
in the afternoon light, strong,
pliable, utilitarian.
With them sew up your memories
into a brilliant cloth
dazzling in the light.