Of chosen words
One crafts a quilt
As one “pieces” a life—
Following threads
Of small acts of courage and choice—
Raveling and unraveling
The particulars of a life…
Following the story-line home.
Catching hold of a purple thread of sorrow
A yellow line of joy
I needle through the cloth
Buttoning together the places of the heart
Knurly and knotted,
Piecing and stringing such fragile threads—
I hide the back from view.
“Such a beautiful piece” they’ll say
Yet I know how I suffer the broken threads
The illusions, false engagements, subtle betrayals--
Such paradox and possibility—
At times, the fabric barely holds.
For far too long, I’ve sewed through button-eyes
Unknotted—they released themselves
As I sought to make connections
That were not mine to make.
But now the needle moves rhythmically
Through the holy quartet of a single button.
I see how singular threads
Need to be knotted and stitched—
Buttoned with the belief
That there are patterns
In this life of sixty-one years.
The stitches are beginning to hold
The torn places are mending.
But still the heart cries out—
The dropped stitches persist—
But what needs to attach, attaches—
And what needs to detach, detaches—
As I’ve become a keeper of buttons. ~