The Witness

Awake,
Eyes wide pools of burning, joy-struck light
She sees
Circles, spirals of bouncing carpet
Stories, histories, spirit, soil,
spider in her web
Unweaving and reweaving her self into newness.
Life unhinged, remade within, without
And still the melody plays
While threads of red flow,
Purple shreds to waste the land below,
Orange, yellow, green move in, over,
Through to coil down
Where a single thread of gold
Will crown her.