a matter of choice
I am the weaver
and I must arrange the color and texture
to create a tapestry overflowing with splendor
metaphors that explain me
the pattern is before me but also the power to choose freely
juxtaposed images of truth and lies, life and death, joy and sorrow
a realization of the workings of the design
the loom predetermined by birth and assignment
but the search will unfold boundless shades to pick from
and if I ponder the seamstresses purposeful plan
I can choose to stop the wood as it slides through the fibers
because the color will not bring me comfort
or I can embrace the fine silken strands that surround
and blend the shades to beget glory within
the accouterments already in place
how we use them is a matter of choice
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