The Stories We Tell Poem by Helen Gaudin

Pale light
A luminous face
Blanched ghost-like
Gazing blankly
Unseeing
Vision tunneling
In and down
Through mind's ravines
Turning over memories
Pulling apart stories
Finding the myths
Seeking that which defines
That shapes the everyday
Listening to the echo
Of words that vibrate
That flow out in waves
To the edge of your skin
Picking up loose treads
Weaving pieces together
Kaleidoscope fragments
Moments that rise
Like bubbles in yeast
Patchwork of life
Piled up one on the other
Piece by piece
No life is lived
From end to end
It is only refined
In the stories we tell
When the gaze refocuses
Returned
To the everyday world