My Persian rug adorns my study floor
Rich in color and thread.
I brought it back from the East
many years ago.
When I hear Scollard's
'As I came down from Lebanon'
by association, the carpet comes
It's the East that flowers like
a Cedar, or palm tree,
whose leaves wave at Christ.
In Persia, this color and ancient
spring clean, drawn by the equinox,
where fresh water starts us again,
The wise men, Persian kings
brought spices too.
They also came to visit.
My rug travelled with me,
home, reminding me of threads,
woven by hands unseen, yet real.
An ancient standing ground
of love and beauty path.
The study hearth is adorned
by my Persian rug.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem