Where we rise from
lethargic mannequinisms,
Becoming animate in our resolve to love,
And be loved.


Spool of Thread



Spool of thread;
White fabric line.

In the right hands,
It can do wonders.

Creating beauty,
Style.

People,
Friends,
Enemies,
Loved ones...

Stitched through time.
To weave our garments of life,
Our glories,
Our mistakes,

Love.
Heartache.
All piercing our heart
At some point.

Weaving our thoughts.
opinions,
Tailoring our hearts
To life's patterns,

Pinned in this,
In these, in those
Moments.

Where we rise from
lethargic mannequinisms,
Becoming animate in our resolve to love,
And be loved.

To take up the threads,
And sew life's vestment around us;

Creating souls garment,
To weather life's storm.
________________________________________




Poetry by W. Burkholder
Read 455 times
Written on 2007-02-28 at 21:31

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Individuality
love is the name of the game we play i reckon, from birth to death love is ever present - a good poem.
2007-02-28