the windows of your soul
bringing rain, wind, and sunlight patches.
You are like a mended seam
That dangling thread you left behind
might have led somewhere
but only the ripped fabric knows
if it was somewhere elegant
or somewhere that frayed edges further
from the source of all cotton memory.
Better to just nap under the quilt you’ve created from your tears.
Contrasting views, one path
choose the one that has changing scenery.
Flat vistas only lead to more of the same.
Better a path, where the choices are always changing.
Textural meandering suits your soul
with ever so much more comforting fabrics.