This poem contains some of the same elements that stimulated the writing of Night Skies, namely the old crafter in the oil painting forever poised in the moment of the creation of wool from fleece
In this painting, a borrowed inch of choice:
Her charcoal dress, her silvered hair,
hands held aloft, forever poised on a threshold,
spinning fleece into threads of things not yet become.
Baskets of liminal potential lie rolled at her feet,
waiting for her crafter's hands to weave the borrowed inches, one by one, into the Great Story still unfolding
against the cosmic tapestry.
Fiona Mackintosh (© April 4, 2014; February 10, 2018)