Faith Walker

I emerge from the womb, into the light.
The cord is severed.
First breath with virgin lungs.
I am gathered up, washed, weighed, wrapped.
I do not return to this place -there is no going back.
Into a tapestry of richly woven cords I am flung.
I bleed -Cancer, Confusion, Conflict.
I see -Death, Destruction, Deliverance.
I breathe -Heaven, Hope, H e a l i n g.
The tapestry bursts brilliant.
The Weaver grins.