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Poem 3

Updated on February 18, 2017


Sparkling (insert color) eyes are squinting through the haze

to find the patterns - to create,

the quilt of this world, with tender (old or new) hands.

Plucking out a lock of his (insert color) hair,

He weaves the first thread, for it is for him.

(Insert him there).

(and now delete him)

A feminine face forms, (it is the dimension of the earth) Round,

and spinning -but on the inside- in the brain-matter,

for she thinks of where to put herself in the quilt.

She weaves the second thread, it is for her.

Combining his and her hair.

(Insert her somewhere and leave her) and look at how she looks for him.

For they are made from the same stuff.

Watch her find her own way through the intricate,

mazes of embroidery, stumbling on a sharp pin,

here or there – stopping to feel the lace at the edges

in her (old or new) hands. Watch her find her place in the pattern.

Has she?

(Then you can insert him there again if you’d like)

© 2015 Marié Patricia Nicolina Murray


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    • AudreyHowitt profile image

      Audrey Howitt 2 years ago from California

      Liked this a bunch--the picture fits your writing style here so much