Path to Novelty

We see the world, not as it is, but as we are – or, as we are conditioned to see it.

― Stephen R. Covey, The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People: Powerful Lessons in Personal Change

There’s a torn tapestry
In a house down the street,
That never stops glowing.
Woven in gold and burgundy
A stream of black streaks
Down its edges and falls
Into a deep abyss of loss.

The house – an echo of pain;
Loud and clear, it tells a story
Of how men lost their way,
When paths still existed.

Radiating life is a poignant hymn
That beats on hope’s rhythm,
Feeding the tapestry of essence
That makes us human.

Photo by Jeff Finley on Unsplash

When the storms fail to cease
And the demons refuse to leave,
This anthem grows louder and
Its rhythm – more vigorous, as
It sends out a message
Through eternal shields
Rendering songs of old, timeless.

As we heal the tear and
The tapestry grows whole again,
And verities are given the stage again,
That is when we will
Take a step back, to survey
The beauty of what can be.

Ella continued to see the world not as it is, but as it could be, if only you believe in courage, and kindness, and occasionally, just a little bit… of magic.

– Fairy Godmother // Cinderella (2015)

(Featured image by Joel Filipe on Unsplash)

Happy New Year, friends!

I hope your 2022 is going well so far and that you’re all staying safe, happy and healthy! Wishing you a fantastic year ahead! ❤

Thoughtfully yours,

43 thoughts on “Path to Novelty

  1. Thanks so much!
    Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. I’m touched you find my work enjoyable!
    Aw I’m grateful to have you read it! Take care!❤️
    I hope the weather eases soon.


  2. Thank you very much, Ms Rae!
    I’m so pleased to hear that! Aw that’s great – a lovely mood to be in as we approach the new year!
    Have a lovely weekend!❤️

    Liked by 1 person

  3. ahh my imagination carried me quite afar looking at the dilapidated hut and reading the lines ‘ The house – an echo of pain;
    Loud and clear, it tells a story
    Of how men lost their way,
    When paths still existed’
    to me the house presumes a place where sorrow is made to forget, where we sublime in eternal artificial bliss when men get drunk.
    and later the meanings that u carried afar. weaving the tapestry to somehting much more was beautiful!


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