Things Found

I found a poem in a book today

It was not put there by the publisher

Or by the author, who happens to be

Neil Gaiman, by the way

It was tucked between pages 70 & 71

In, The Sandman – Season of Mists

And although I didn’t write it I had to

Pass it along – it’s too good not to share

I believe that it is called, “Tapestry” or

“Our Tapestry” or even, as the small

Upside down print on the back says,

“We cross our palms with stars for love”...

here’s our tapestry;

follow each thread,

catch storyful stich.

the reds and golds,

the fires and sparks

that forged us.

the blacks and greys,

the clouds and storms

that overshadowed us.

the purples and blues,

the bruise and tears

that broke us down.

Here’s the white light

for the times we were

saved

here’s the handle;

we turn it to

open a new door

here’s the corner;

we turn it to  

follow a new path

here’s the page,

we turn it to

find a new story

here’s the thing

A life full of turns

has no straight road to

follow

beginning after beginning,

and yet no end in sight.

A loose end here

A loose end there

We gather up the strings;

we weave our own

tapestry

...I stood in the library

With a smile on my face

As the unexpected gift

A discovery unfolded before me

There is no signature

But there is a small drawing of a coy

Fish and a symbol in a corner of the paper

But, to whoever wrote this, I thank you

The magic of things discovered, things found

I find the prose wonderful and, might I add

Much better than anything that this

Humble, pseudo-poet has produced

It made me smile to see it between

The pages of a book by Neil Gaiman

I will replace it as I have found it

For someone else to discover the magic

Enter Sandman

Gentle Reader if this was the 23rd Century, the survivors of war, overpopulation and pollution would be living in a great domed city, sealed away from the forgotten world outside. Within the dome would be a completely ecologically balanced world and mankind would only be living driven by the pleasures that the central computer and the robotic servo-mechanisms, would provide.

But there is a catch. Life must be terminated at the age of 30, unless citizens are reborn in the fiery ritual of Carrousel!

Citizens would have a crystal implanted in their palms that would indicate their age; birth to 7 the color of the crystal would be yellow, 7 – 14 years Blue, 14 – 29 Red and Last Day would be Blinking Red. At the end of Last Day the crystal would be black signifying the fact that time is up. Some citizens would happily march to Carrousel – others would not. Those who would run would be tracked by the Deep Sleep Operatives or Sandmen. Once a Sandman finds a runner he “retires” them by tracking them down and making the kill.

You see, I’m a runner – still seeking Sanctuary. If this were the world of Logan’s Run as of today my palm crystal has been black for the last 9 years; I would have been running for the last 9 years. I’m turning into Peter Ustinov’s character from the film; a film that was released in 1976, when I was 8 years old.

I will have to whistle ‘Happy Birthday’ quietly; time is too short to wallow in the past and the Sandmen are converging on my location.

Time to keep running.