Trignosis 3.

3. visions

from the garden,
echoes of a faded music
round the corner of forgetting

the tapestry of being
unfurls before me,
as if it could be mine
and of my making

and so I sing,
I sing to the beauties of being
and the words tumble out
like colored threads
to dazzle
and then
to darn themselves
into the warp and woof
of continuity

do I truly see,
or is it that I flow
as a thread among
the seas and seams?

from the garden,
echoes of a fading song
round of the corner of forgetting

perhaps I should enter there,
and follow

© 2011 by Elisabeth T. Eliassen