Sunday, August 3, 2008

embroidery














embroidery

If, as now I see,
these twists and loops were fashioned by design
and guiding hands divine
held and tied the threads intentionally,
these tangles aren't what first I thought they be.

Stitches binding hearts.
I felt each pull of in and out, around
and fancied I was bound
and tugging chords were tearing me apart,
the needle piercing, wounding like a dart.

This tangle's nothing new.
Two chords unwound will soon become entwined.
Your thread is linked with mine.
They move together, separate on cue
with in and under, out, around and through.

Mistakes, maybe they were
but now I see each knot was artfully
positioned, carefully
arranged so the pattern would not err.
And even if the picture seems a blur

turn over, see it clear.
Below the threads are ripped or pulled too tight
but over all is right.
So let our needles move in joy and tears
and stitch and stitch through all the coming years.

sar 2008

1 comment:

  1. For a woman that hates craft, you seem to understand embroidery. I loved this poem. Thanks for both writing it and posting it.

    Just write whatever is in there at the time and agonise over the should I / shouldn't I bit afterwards. Make it should I / shouldn't I post it, not should I / shouldn't I write it.

    ReplyDelete