Threaded By Twilight

weavingYou weave your stories like the night,
stringing the moon with the stars;
the finest of pristine pearls,
threaded by twilight.

Weaving the finest Varanasi silk
with life as your celestial loom;
laying down gold- and silver-threaded brocade,
dormant gardens burst in bloom.

Your pen is the philosopher’s stone
turning lead hearts into gold;
manipulating structure in stunning stanzas,
inscribing on hearts in italics and bold.

Nodding in acquiescence
the sages of the ages,
will then add your magnum opus
to their papyraceous pages.

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into consciousness..

 

 

“I love how you drift into consciousness

like fragrance from a distant garden.”

~ Arthur ‘Skip’ Maselli

http://phosphorimental.com/

garden