Threads

In the brief moment
of in between
I can see with clarity
the whole of my dream.
Then quickly it unravels
and returns to the place
from which it travels.

Reaching way back
into the murky depths
Trying to grasp
the fragile threads.

I get little pieces
more often than not
With frayed ends
and impossible knots.

Handing the pieces
to gifted friends
Watching their fingers
while they mend
Not sure what it will be
in the end.

Weaving the pieces
into the tapestry
Though usually from the back
is the view I see.

All messy and disjointed
Loose ends hanging down.
It looks so ugly
and chaos abounds.

But, oh! The joy
When I turn it around!

The most beautiful vision
fills my sight.
The richness, the harmony
breathtakingly right.

I can’t wait
for it to be night.

When angels visit me
in my dreams
and leave more thread
to add to the scene.