Weaving Dreams Poem by Liilia Talts Morrison

My life has seen so many starts
completing but a few
so many dreams still to unfold
and hopes to rise anew

Who will be picking up the yarn
when spinning slows to purr
when woven threads fall to the floor
and tired eyes are blurred

is there a young and caring hand
to find a faded cloth
long doomed to a forgotten chest
an attic home for moths

So many hopes have come to naught
in wisdom's burnished mold
so many sparkling cups of joy
dashed to a ground so cold

Through hazy cobwebs fringed with dust
I see a ray of light
As yesterday's fond hopes appear
Like sunbeams in fair flight

I move toward my modest cot
and lay the shuttle down
of that old wooden spinning wheel
that still keeps going round

Tonight my dreams will let me know
if that quilt full of seams
will be attached and somehow patched
to some new weaver's dreams.