Spinning in the Spools of Solitude
I am a wealth of things both majestic and small,
grand to no one in particular
but giving and making things brighter and better in my own way.
Pleasant and sound when the sun is full,
aching to be the quiet in the late of day.
Dawn arrests me, while in the night I have dreams of plenty.
Never speaking of the beast within me, but for my thoughts, I'd only take a penny.
My mind a weave of woven baskets that all hold my inner soul,
the length of which only God may ever really know.
And I would never ask him to show me the picture all at once,
because before my body blends back into the earth,
my journey once complete before it is all said and done.
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