Where hard working hands contrive to weave


With the mystery threads of oblique crossroads


Obeying the laws

Of colour and harmony


Until the spiral returns to the end


Of the journey of plants.


The patterns emerge


Oftentimes convoluted


Prior to their meaning being established


Though still misinterpreted


Nevertheless, joyous languages


Of the obsessional 


Devoted and dedicated


Pattern makers


Of both form and function


Perform through the lens


To the healers and the healed


That have launched conversations


Of practicality


And delight


Where the craft ascends to art


And flawed perfection speaks truth


Through the dialogue of expression


Whereupon structure is beauty


And curves, that of the Divine


Spoken in the spirit of the hexagon


Sung in simplicity


And treasured in tradition


Whose ever ascending patterns


Evolve with beauty.

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