Laid out, in a tapestry,
I suppose the overriding
message would be inconsistency –

a montage of seemingly unrelated
images, the blatant disconnection
offending to the eye, and yet…

closer inspection might reveal
a thread of commonality –
the presence of orange,
in its many incarnations,
woven into each tableau…

a hint of the woman whose
wanderlust has driven her
in so many directions

a passion, that like the sun
cannot contain its rays –
a willingness to embrace
the unknown, acceptant of
endings and beginnings.

I regard myself as inquisitor,
charged with assessing motivations
of crimes, turning over choices,
looking under rocks for disclosure
of weaknesses and fallacies,
questioning the what ifs and whys,
as if life could be rewritten –

the interrogator has no appreciation
for colour, does not allow credit
for tinges of orange, judges only
in terms of black and white…

lacks the empathy to behold wonder
in a life, that despite its incoherence,
depicts a tapestry of survival:

a testimony to the art
of a creative soul’s passage.

(Written originally as way of self-introduction for my writing circle, submitted here in response to Willow Poetry’s challenge:  What do you See?)

Photo courtesy of Willow Poetry.


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Permission to write, paint, and imagine are the gifts I gave myself when chronic illness hit - a fair exchange: being for doing. Relevance is an attitude. Humour essential.

33 thoughts on “Tapestry”

  1. Questions are always good. We may not always agree on the answers. Some differences are as smooth as a hard stone.
    Contrary in their creativity. This is what I believe you have pointed out. 🙂

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      1. I think contrary and creativeness can work well together. I am quite apt at mixing short forms that perhaps were never meant to go together.
        Being a rebel is just my nature 😉

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  2. ‘wanderlust’ is fast becoming one of my favourite words – used to great effect by Joni Mitchell in Amelia – a song I keep playing of late. As we’ve discussed before, we don’t need to leave the house to go a-wandering:
    I pulled into the Cactus Tree Motel
    To shower off the dust
    And I slept on the strange pillows of my wanderlust
    I dreamed of 747’s
    Over geometric farms
    Dreams, Amelia, dreams and false alarms

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  3. Wow – strong poem! Interrogator vs inquisitor … black&white vs orange … the image seems a natural fit, and if you had not said otherwise, I would’ve guessed your poem came from the image. Now I’m pondering “the presence of orange and its many incarnations” … wondering what color would define a tapestry of my life …

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    1. There was a personality test: True Colours, which defined us as either gold, blue, green, or orange. I was flaming orange with equal parts blue and green and lowest possible gold. Orange has always been my favourite colour.

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