deepundergroundpoetry.com

My Grandmother's Quilt

She threads the needle as she sits in her rocking chair
Her voice travels within my dreams through the air
She smiles at me and softly explains
Why the quilt looks quite a certain way:

Complication is a quilt of emotions
when squares are added over long
lengths of linear time and still today
never completely finished.

The mystery is how some pieces were sewn to attach others
and its enough to drive you plain mad
and wonder who in the hell made this
and doubting whether they were really in a right state of mind.

Perfection is that the quilt was made exactly this way, and
very much on and with purpose, no one will ever quite know why
but the stitches, with tiny voices say they were carefully sewn to be exactly this way
no matter how strange it may seem to you and I.

She stops speaking and my mouth opens as if to ask why,
but I stifle that urge to pry as I hear the gentle squeak that tells me
she rocks back and forth thinking of what next she should speak...
She wraps her quilt about me now and smiles as she continues on,

Love is taking another's quilt and wrapping it about you,
no matter if it be long enough because you curl underneath it and
contour to fit its unique shape, and you hold tight to it every night-
to snuggle in every loving fold and in the morning when you wake...

You will pick up a needle and thread and begin to sew, once as I did, your own take.