My dreams draw skeins of thoughts all tangled
Round the wheel of inner I
Spinning silk of past unravelled
Into threads of future ply.
And on the loom of daily living
They weave a tapestry of light
And blend with all the earthly colors
To make the cloth a splendid sight.
Manifold pearls should shame the oyster
To trap in sand the rainbow hue
Of white prescient of the moment
Where each color melds the dew.
Who can blame him. Live forever!
Who toileth not 'neath stormy sea. . .
Not the lily nor the valley
Weave within such mystery.