Woven In Time
By John R. Greenwood
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| Click Here: Window of the Dubois House on Huguenot Street, New Paltz |
my stories come to me
sometimes
I go to them
they weave themselves into my day
and night
always forming something more grand
than the last
I carry them with me
gently
my stories come from
other stories
other places
other beings
like antique baskets
faded
yet strong enough to
support the past
each life entwined
touches another
hand in hand
arm in arm
arm in arm
in towns
thru villages
along a river's edge
the time has come
to return there
quietly
to witness those
who never left
Such a perfectly poetic description of your passion. Diane
ReplyDeleteHi neighbor! Had no idea you had a blog, look forward to reading it thoroughly.
ReplyDeleteOh, and thanks for snow blowing out the end of my driveway last year when it got a bit heavy!
mark.
Mark, so glad you stopped by. I would enjoy seeing those photos of yours, email me a link at the Raining Iguanas email address. And you're more than welcome. I'm about one winter away from a 4-wheel drive and a plow.
ReplyDeleteWhat a beautiful metaphor and lovely poem!
ReplyDelete