Night Tapestry

I'm up again at 3 am

And my mind is full of loops.

Thoughts recur and weave,

Tangle and knot

To make a distorted tapestry

Of snarled threads that can't be undone.


Like the back of your embroidered sampler,

Where order is unmade 

And yet the truth of the thing revealed,

My lucid explanations,

My dishonest justifications,

Become jumbled but clearer.


I try to rest but keep snagging 

My mind on the knots of

Who am I? And Who are you?

And What will we be?

And I stay there, until I drift off, 

And find the questions again tomorrow.

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