Hand woven rug is like our conscious time
Intentions, fate and details mesh as one
Senses, eye-pleasing patterns O’ they mime
Both same, beneath currents of meaning run.

Try as we might to rule the course of life
So come about the changes in the path
Rug’s meaning should be sharp as a steel knife
But I see greed the weaver meant a wrath.

Both’s fate is that its impact is to last
Awaits the destiny while we fulfill
A useful object shows stories of past
Some fated will stride on with power of will.

For always layered meanings in rugs stay
Reminding us life is like the array.