Poetry

I dont write poetry all that much but here is little ditty you may enjoy. There is another one posted below if you are into it.

The Changing Cloth

Woolen, worn soft by time and tread,
Walked mile upon mile, dust soaked and dew laden.
Yet clean, pristine, but not by hands labor.

Hem stitched and tassel fringed, fraying just.
Color, and white, and dinge, and spot.
Power, in a breathless flash of endless time and love.

Thoughts of wondrous measure race the expanse
Of this limitless moment.
Movement, electric and soft, vision, clear and long.
New, clean air filling every inch of these sails,
All in a single speck of a moment.

Astounding garment, this changing cloth. This
Woven mystery of transforming flow.
How cause you thus this rift to mend,
And stain you not with shame or woe.

“Who touched me?”

Sound cease and motion halt. Time suspends as the light of truth
Reveals hidden motive.

“Who touched me?!”

Eyes meet in forbidden gaze, unclean and sanctified mingle
As footfall brings distance to a close.

Deep pools of loving kindness spill from the face
Only distance has ‘till now yet seen.
Mercy, beyond reason and piety, limitless and filling.
Recognition of past and present and future and justification
Made complete by sacrifice to come.

Understanding and peace reside at once within,
As physical and spiritual join and align.
No changing cloth a difference made,
But the wearer therein, now in me, abides.

~David Mayo~