Sunday, March 18, 2012

The Day After St. Paddy's Day

Flawed Tapestry

Silence wraps around me
a blanket of blushed tones
silky white to touch
tints of gray
speckled from edge to edge
never knowing
if I am coming or going
questioning - have I been here all along
and there is a sense of harshness
in the thoughts that wash over me
my faith is an absence of color
as sepia images of Mary and the baby boy
fade away - drifting with a tide of innocence
that now alludes me to the core
I have grown weary
suspect of my surroundings
laughter comes at a price
and there is a dagger to my heart
as a finger to lips - hush sweet sounds of joy
silver in the lining of flat clouds
float by - carried on a sea breeze
traces of what I once knew to be true
this I know no more
and yes mourning doves coo
reminiscent of gentler times
penetrate the cloak that once protected
now smother daydreams of you and me
stray beams of sunlight
pierce a flawed tapestry
I’ve come to call my life

© 2012 Trilby