Four of Textiles

The habit of believing in our own limitation
Makes for a tight and practiced fit as we draw
The caravan tent from packs against a
Desert’s moonlit storm, and as we hammer
Down the corners of apparent protection
Then we must fight against expectations
As well because there is nothing we can’t
Leave hidden in sacks and fear drives us
To hang privately upon what we hold dear
Under the vast night sky and we help others
Forget the palettes of rich carpets that
We will set ourselves upon tomorrow
When truths have settled down between
The rhythm of tea and hookahs and sales.

copyright © 2012 Amanda Morris Johnson

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Three of Textiles

Long ago and far away a textile
Road changed the world, extending
Through dozens of cultures and
Connecting them inextricably to this
Day. Here a foundation for the modern world,
Wrapped in silk, it traded philosophies,
Beliefs and even plagues of driven
Death, as merchants and artists
Made their way upon those stones. In truth
Few traveled its course from end to end.
The point of its genius, of its design,
Expresses in a world ready to be
Woven together in a complex pattern
Fulfilling function and form perfectly.

copyright © 2012 Amanda Morris Johnson