The Trapped Light

On ancient cloth, dust and remembrance deep,
An embroidery of fading dreams,
Where light, once a vibrant chord to keep,
Now hides within the hardened seams.
Through faded silk and gold grown dim with age,
Each petal, leaf, a woven density,
A fragile gleam, almost astray and slight,
Which to the touch unveils deep melancholy.
Old hands, with patience and slow grace,
Wove tales of vibrant hues so bright,
But yesterday’s sun, defenseless in its place,
Is captive in the patterns of its light.
A shroud of shadows cloaks the luxury,
The fugitive gleam, like passing breath,
Slumbers in the knotwork, an essence mystery,
A mute witness to times that softly death.