Time Tapestry

I do not like to subject you to my poetry very often, but today I am very tired after a day-long walk in the biting cold. So, here goes:-

Time unspools as it must,

Seconds fuse into minutes, hours, days, weeks,

Weaving a tapestry of time.

We often hate our tapestry,

Not enough on it,

Or too much bad stuff.

But the tapestry is laid out,

On the turf of the mind.

An uneasy mind yields an ugly rug,

A calm one a weave so serene.

So fixate not on the tapestry of time,

If you must, dwell on the state of your mind.

I realize my poems still have a message or motto as they were written during my therapeutic writing stage. Maybe one day I will be able to write a poem which doesn't sermonize. That is enough navel-gazing for today :-P