Tapestry

behold this tapestry
of me
weaved with infinities hand
i focus on a single thread
i ride a single strand
i hide out in the fringe
my totality sublime
a red flower here
yet i am the vine
the knots
each loop and bend
and every straight line
in every color i am found
every thread holds the key
patched and restored
stained torn and faded
every fiber me
yet i take notice of little pieces
certain aspects of design
and to the beauty of this
piece of art
i find i am still blind
still looking
following this
waiting to unravel