Metaphors

To some, 

Life is the Great Tapestry

Woven by cruel Fate,

The threads of each life

Are spun and woven into the Tapestry

By her adept, skeletal hand,

Snickering the shuttle back and forth

And weaving distinct threads into a great Pattern of Destiny.

Threads begin and end suddenly,

And change their position in the Work,

But the Tapestry is one of great beauty 

Where Death and Life

Are the Warp and Weft

Together.

To some, 

Life is a Story

Told by the great Author

With Plot and Subplots and Themes

Births and deaths

Mystery, Drama, Humor and Lessons

Written by the Wise One

With the Quill of Reality

And the Ink of Illusion.

The Ending is always hidden

Though foreshadowed

And the Critics will rave at the mastery 

And the beautiful necessity of each life

and Death.

But to her, Life is a Song

Of such beauty and power

Its sound rends the heart

And pulls the soul of its listeners.

It is a Song of Joy sung and played

By the Creator

And echoed by His Creation.

Great Themes run together with Minor Variations

In a great and infinite fugue of Fate and Soul.

The major chords of the thunder and the mountains

And the tinkling melody of the Aurora

Are but distant echoes of the Song.

The Sun and Moon and Stars keep time,

And Man is the audience,

And the instrument

And the major theme,

Though all but the Artists and Madmen are terminally deaf.

In the End,

Everyone will realize that this Musician

Is the greatest Artist of them all,

And that even though the song must end,

The music will go on

Forever.

And the Orchestra may yet play again.