The trail is not simply
sewn with a needle of the sun
threaded through the eye of the moon
even if I sometimes feel the pinch of that warm stitch
as I reach out to that small step claimed for man.
Thought is not always free from guilt-
we cannot get close to the sun without waring the scars,
the Id js designed to devour, the ego to condemn
before the conscious can even come close
to consider its part in this creation.
This skin does not melt under the burning sun
but it froze once, under a certain stare, as a child,
in the doorway between that blinkered ray of innocence
and the ice-cold stare of understanding.
We are all patchwork paths-
joined at seams and torn from others,
some scattered careless, despite all the patterns
etched into our pinched skins that freeze but do not melt
though I felt the heat
once, on the other side of the world
where the moon seemed so much closer to the sun,
but our egos never found a compatible way to align our sides
and feed the Id that itched so.
The trail is not simply
sewn with a needle of the sun
threaded through the eye of the moon.


All words and photographs by Damien B. Donnelly



  1. I had a patchwork quilt once that was made of lots of different patterned fabric squares, each square gathered in the centre to create a ‘hole’ and all the squares sewn to eachother and the whole thing sewn onto a warm quilt. An old lady made it, she made lots of them over time. I had mine for years and eventually the squares faded and some individual patches got torn or pulled loose or came undone. The poem sounds lovely about the needle of the sun and the eye of the moon and I get some of the patchwork references but I can’t say I understand the poem. I feel puzzled. If you can be bothered helping my understanding with a few words of explanation I’d like to understand it a bit more. Unlike the sun and the moon I can be a bit dim!

    • In short it’s about our journeys not being clear cut, not as controlled by the sun and moon, night and day, as we think even if we feel their pull, neither is it controlled by the subconscious desires, while it can be guilted by our own thoughts- the Id lusts while the ego judges, even ourselves, and the subconscious gets to do this before the though even enters the conscious thought. We are perhaps plans/patchworks cut apart, torn at the seams and incorrectly placed next to other patterns that don’t always match, looking to find the correct configuration but not always successful in the search or else time not always being helpful in placing the right seam next to the right pattern at the right time even if we think we have found a way to control time itself- which we haven’t, sometimes it just feels like we have but then it moves on- we find confidence after withstanding a little heat but a moment later we are frozen in place and unable to move. Push and pull, night and day, conscious and subconscious,
      Control and lack of and back to the sun and the moon, sewing us together as best they can. Did I say ‘short’ at the start of this explanation? 😳😂😂

      • You’ve been extremely generous in explanation Dami and I read it with much attention, I wish you could have seen me LOL! I was absolutely fascinated. When time permits I’ll sit down quietly and re-read the poem again with the benefit of having absorbed what you’ve shared! How thankful I am for your patience and I’m enjoying this journey into this particular poem. Warm hugs and much gratitude, Liz xx

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