And where does a story end,
and another one begin?
And what of those moments,
lounging on a street corner
watching the traffic go by?
Aren't they part
of a story, too?
The threads of the tapestry
weave a single pattern, yet
we hunger for a discreet
beginning and end, not God's
Coltrane-like music of being
everyone everywhere
at once and for all time,
a story following a thread,
'a piece of string' like de Maupassant's,
a beginning, middle and end,
a glimpse, something
for those of us walking
a path on earth and preparing
to take a next step,
maybe lifting our heads
to some vista far beyond
This is wonderful, all sharing a story and each playing a vital role in life I love this theme and the first verse almost left me speechless, so good Love duncan XXX
I loved this, especially the Coltrane-like line. And of course, spoken with the soul of a true writer. Hugs Anna xxx
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Reminds me that while we're waiting for the future, the present becomes the past. And we don't take the time to enjoy now. Perhaps we should just do it all at once, as you suggest. Thought-provoking piece, Max. Beautifully done. Linda