The cloth of life

How intricate the mystic cloth of life
Fine silks cross-corded into harsher twines
Soft textures weft the warp of rougher strands
Interlocking merging colour bands
Crasser weeds caressing cultured vines

Some men find life’s canvas crafted rough
Perceiving nothing but the course and crude
They touch it with disdainful greedy haste
Shallow skimmers in a life of snatch and waste
Their reading of the meaning all too rude

The searcher though draws closer to the weave
Sees subtle interplays of woof and web
Twixt vivid light and subtle pastel hues
The beauty of the silvers and the blues
The ever changing, pulsing flow & ebb

This growing man, truth touching and embracing
Struggles, learns and merges with the stitch
Where other’s seeking soul may someday find him
In the living, changing cloth ….and burgeon rich