Monday, February 01, 2010

An Inner Vision


I

feel the edges
knit the fabric
set the type
rise the mist
scent the air
tie the knot
gather the peat
rivet the patches
tat the lace
stoke the fire
forge the lock
weave the basket
bind the book

of my dreams

and so

I have only words
and never fullness
when it comes
as close as a handsewn buttonhole in fine silk

the only way to say it
is
in
poem.

4 comments:

Jeanne Klaver said...

Love this. I'm drawn to the heart-shape in the water.

sarah said...

I love it!

Tammie Lee said...

your poem
your images
are divine!

Barefoot from Heaven said...

You've just captured the water shaped his heart for you....this is stunning.

Love the sky, the trees the water and it's colors. Lovely.