Renewal: 100 Days (67)

Tying Up Loose Ends

Day 67:

I finished the shrug today! I love the feel of these sleeves, and the way they drape! I am definitely going to use this stitch pattern again, and bamboo yarn whenever I can get my hands on it. I stitched the black around the granny square eye. I’m still not totally satisfied, but I feel like I am getting somewhere. Just in time, because I need to get into the next UFO with a will, so I think it’s going to be granny squares for the next little while.

Renewal
by Beth Weaver-Kreider

When the snake women—
lamia and gorgons—
and the dragon women
shed their skins,
we gather them
where they have fallen
beneath the witch hazel trees,
to adorn ourselves
in their cast-off rage
and we remember
our power.

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Longing: 100 Days (66)

Tying Up Loose Ends

Day 66:

Today was a problem-solving day. I think the shrug is going to be okay! I got one sleeve crocheted together, and I’ll manage the other tomorrow during crochet club after school. I also made a smaller eye that I think will work for the granny square sweater. I just need to get that black layer around the outside.

Longing
by Beth Weaver-Kreider

The Bird of Longing will sing in your soul.
Her brilliant wings will unfurl within you.
Her bright eye will lead you to your deepest desire.

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Oriole: 100 Days (65)

Tying Up Loose Ends

Day 65:

Before I even thought to look for him, Oriole is back!

Behind the bird chorus, behind the sound of wind in the trees, the hum of bees from the rogue hive in the barn. Scent of pine and mayapple in the woods, and lily of the valley by the house. Hidden blooms of pawpaw, and the tender blessing of a friend: “Stay safe, stay well—”

I put the shoulders together on the bamboo shrug, then began adding the orange sleeve, but I got the seam on the wrong side. I unraveled. Tomorrow: take two.

Oriole
by Beth Weaver-Kreider

how the oriole
returns to me whistling loud
and sets the treetop aflame

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What Will It Take?

Tying Up Loose Ends

Day 64:

Another busy day, but I found some time to make a few hearts and flowers for Pride.

At the beginning of this year, I pulled a random Star Word out of the basket at church: Music. At that point, I think I had already been hearing some of the Singing Resistance songs on the internet, but had no idea that they would be spreading everywhere, that I would have the opportunity to join with other folks to teach them here in my area. I am grateful to be able to participate in bringing the music to the resistance. This afternoon 40 people gathered at Dover UCC to sing together and to talk about how to support our neighbors.

https://www.facebook.com/share/r/1K3qynP1iD

What Will It Take?
by Beth Weaver-Kreider

What will it take for you to love
the spark of Holiness inside you?
What will you risk to follow heaven’s bird
when she opens in your heart her indigo wings?
What will you answer when the Holy Ghost
begins her sparkling and velvety questions?
Will you cower in fear, or tip your ears forward
in joyful anticipation when you hear the howl
of the wild creatures calling your name?

Will you fall down on your knees in gratitude,
in joy, in awe, in worship
when you meet the spirit for whom
only you can be the dwelling place?
Will you tend this temple,
will you raise an altar,
will you offer the best of everything you have?
Will you love the immortal being
lodged within your mortal body,
and love also the body it lives in?

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Lindsay Jean Thomson
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Search: 100 Days (63)

Tying Up Loose Ends

Day 63: 

Just a few rows on the Prayer Shawl today. I spent the morning walking the Race Against Racism in Lancaster with 3,000 other people, the afternoon printing and folding song-sheet zines for tomorrow’s Singing Resistance session at Dover UCC, and the evening at dinner with my parents.

I have all sorts of fragmenty poem bits floating around in my brain, but very little sense of how to weave a poem tonight.

Search
by Beth Weaver-Kreider

who did you find
when you opened the door
to the inside of yourself?


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Wild: 100 Days (62)

Tying Up Loose Ends

Day 62: 

Busy day again today. I am glad that I chose Pride Swag Hearts and Flowers as one of my unfinished projects for the 100 days—it’s a portable project to take along when I am going from place to place.

Some wordplay for a poem today from my exhausted brain.

Wild
by Beth Weaver-Kreider

whirled whorled world
whored word wired weird
welded wielded woe

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Irked: 100 Days (61)

Tying Up Loose Ends

Day 61:

I need to figure out how to turn my protector eyes into granny squares of the proper size to match my other granny squares. I do love this one I tried today, along with a properly-sized regular granny square. I also worked a couple rows on the prayer shawl while I was watching the Menno Action Zoom tonight.

Irked
by Beth Weaver-Kreider

loud buzz then a whoosh
past my ear out of control
stinkbug lands on me

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Earth Day: 100 Days (60)

Tying Up Loose Ends

Day 60:

I’m so grateful for my colleagues. Got a nice pep talk from a neighboring teacher this morning who helped me shift shame into possibility.

I finished the white panel of the bamboo shrug this evening. Here is where I so often abandon a project. I had a vision when I started, and the shapes of these four panels just don’t seem to fit like I intended. Ugh. I’ll strategize tomorrow or this weekend.

Meanwhile, I am still caught in the web between Beauty and Rage.

Motherless
by Beth Weaver-Kreider, 2026

end stage patriarchy
and the men are drugging the planet
checking her eyes to see she’s asleep
before they ravage her

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Beauty and Rage: 100 Days (59)

Tying Up Loose Ends

Day 59:

Busy day with a few bright moments to breathe in the flowers and drink a cup of tea with beloveds. Three granny squares and a tiny poem.

Beauty and Rage
by Beth Weaver-Kreider

Somewhere on the page of my day,
somewhere on the brightly light stage
is the balancing point
between beauty
and rage

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Spheres: 100 Days (58)

Tying Up Loose Ends

Day 58: 

Not much time for poems and projects today. One sweet granny square and a short poem. Here are some of the little orange bowls in use, and nested together like a little box. And the tiny blooms on a witch hazel tree.

Spheres
by Beth Weaver-Kreider

The glistening eye of the golden koi misses nothing:
the thousands of tadpoles huddling in the shallows,
the legs of the patient heron watching for young trout,
the shadow of a raven winging above the pond.
The underwater realm is her contemplation.

The golden sphere of the black snake’s eye reveals
the fire of life force in the vole’s underground den,
the sparkle of light on the shining scales of the koi,
the gleaming wings of a beetle in the leaf litter.
She regards her territory with appraising eye.

The round eye of the doe holds the whole meadow:
every stalk quaking with unseen breezes,
every snake nosing through the grasses,
every field sparrow visiting her hidden nest.
Nothing escapes her silent observation.

The black eye of the raven absorbs the far view
of fields and treetops, how the river winds
through the valley and down to the bay,
the sudden leap of a deer in the meadow below.
Nothing escapes her sovereign gaze.

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