Work in Progress
from Within My Illusions
I am a work in progress,
Like the spider web outside my window
On the first day of fall.
The first day I noticed it
I thought it was perfect–
Intricate,
Delicate,
Concentric circles
Spanning two feet across,
A quintessential image.
An ephemeral thing
Strong enough to endure
Daily forces and pressures,
But easily forsaken
When a late afternoon thunderstorm
Rips through its fabric.
But the web is not abandoned.
That gaping hole
I saw the night before
Is filled by morning,
Sealed with a new weave,
Rendering it whole again.
I am a work in progress.
The unfinished painting,
The half-written poem,
The dough still rising.
I am the sky at dawn wondering
Why children are taught that I am blue
When right now I am pink-orange
And often the hue of deep space and filled with stars.
I am a work in progress.
Perhaps more like the spider than the web,
Mending tears,
And tending to the cracks
That lace my heart.
I am a work in progress
And still I am
Complete.