The Weaver

He wove the thin white silk;
a net enclosure.
It stitched to chambers,
hung suspended above
the harvest of passion,
the field between thighs.
Seeds of desire in the
agrestal meadow of love.

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Published by seleneofthesky

Independent learner and lover of subtleties. I identify my analytical mind in philosophical terms and would like to believe it generates in this way, not to bring me harm, but to bring awareness of how individuals and groups act in society. All thoughts are discovered within. I aim to spread love and promote the acceptance of Self. May you feel comfort with my observations of this world.

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