The wool -not of our choosing

We're handed each strand -day by day

Various shades and intensity of colour

each strand -its own texture

Sometimes a smoothness -now a roughness

a nubbiness

Unforeseen difficulties



The ones we like best -the silky strands

slip through our fingers too quickly

We want to linger..

But each strand has a purpose

-an alloted time in our hands

We move on..

accepting the texture and colour of our lives

the dull browns of duties

the reds of suffering

of rising emotions

the blacks of despair

the greens that uplift our spirits

the rare silvers -that shimmer briefly

the whites -pools of silence and light

the blues of separation -increasing our longing

the golds of the Goal -manifestations of Perfection

Searching for Truth..we begin weaving tapestry