About the Poem
This poem expresses the triumph of beauty after being knocked down and avoided. It expresses the everlasting hope.
|by Beth Townsend|
The rug was purchased many years ago.
It was of the most beautiful tapestry.
It contained hues of gold like the hair of angels,
Blue like that of the deep ocean or wide open sky,
A Purple that could have only been of royalty.
After a few years, though, the newness began to fade.
Suddenly, taking care of the rug became
A chore rather than an act of pride.
Things began to be swept underneath the rug;
Dirt, dust, paper. Anything at all.
Meanwhile, there grew a lump in the middle of the rug.
First, a small, barely visible lump.
The masters of the house managed to dodge the lump,
Paying it no attention, they would say,
"Oh, we will take care of that later. "
That later never came and over the years,
The lump grew and grew and grew.
The rug, in a room sporadically visited now,
Is dirty, dingy, and barely looks as it did years ago.
In fact, you cannot even walk over the rug because the lump is now
Overflowing the rug's edges onto the surrounding floor.
The hues of gold, blue, and purple have faded a bit,
Or do they just need a little cleaning?
Now is the time to pull the rug up.
Clean from under it. Wash the dingy tapestry.
Lay it out in a new spot and show its magnificent splendor
That it still possesses.