THE TAPESTRY
Every evening, I perched on a swinging garden chair
On the pretext of breathing in some fresh air
T’was one of those quiet, lonesome evenings
When my attention turned toward her
Seated on the grass, across the fence
Was a girl, head bent over her lap
Deeply engrossed in her work…. I edged
Closer to discover an unfinished canvas there
The canvas found its solace on
The pillow of her lap as
Nylon threads of blue, green and purple
Lay scattered on the grass
Day after day, as sunset neared
She sat doing her piece of tapestry
Humming a tune, working ceaselessly until
Darkness hovered, enveloping her.
Seated on my chair, I pictured the canvas
Wincing with pain as the needle pricked her (canvas) all, over
Like a movie at play, I heard the tangled threads
At her back (canvas), crying out to be set scot free.
I was caught off guard as ……
My thoughts jolted to a sudden halt…….
As I remembered someone working on
The tapestry of my jeopardized life.
A slow needle prick with love is what
He is instilling into me
Only to bring out a better picture
Onto the masterpiece.
Never showing me the fullness of the piece, but
Turning it over, He seeks to remove
Every single tangle, and to weave it into
Something more prettier than eyes can see.
Ultimately, one fine day when I look back
On life’s pathway that I trod
I will, with joy, behold the fullness of the masterpiece
With a golden thread having been woven
Thro’ the tapestry of my life.
Sarah Susannah Sampath
Every evening, I perched on a swinging garden chair
On the pretext of breathing in some fresh air
T’was one of those quiet, lonesome evenings
When my attention turned toward her
Seated on the grass, across the fence
Was a girl, head bent over her lap
Deeply engrossed in her work…. I edged
Closer to discover an unfinished canvas there
The canvas found its solace on
The pillow of her lap as
Nylon threads of blue, green and purple
Lay scattered on the grass
Day after day, as sunset neared
She sat doing her piece of tapestry
Humming a tune, working ceaselessly until
Darkness hovered, enveloping her.
Seated on my chair, I pictured the canvas
Wincing with pain as the needle pricked her (canvas) all, over
Like a movie at play, I heard the tangled threads
At her back (canvas), crying out to be set scot free.
I was caught off guard as ……
My thoughts jolted to a sudden halt…….
As I remembered someone working on
The tapestry of my jeopardized life.
A slow needle prick with love is what
He is instilling into me
Only to bring out a better picture
Onto the masterpiece.
Never showing me the fullness of the piece, but
Turning it over, He seeks to remove
Every single tangle, and to weave it into
Something more prettier than eyes can see.
Ultimately, one fine day when I look back
On life’s pathway that I trod
I will, with joy, behold the fullness of the masterpiece
With a golden thread having been woven
Thro’ the tapestry of my life.
Sarah Susannah Sampath
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