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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Day 53:
Just a few rows tonight. I told myself I might only work for 5 or 10 minutes some days, and so far I have always put at least half an hour into a project every day. Even three rows is close to 30 minutes of time.
Toad
by Beth Weaver-Kreider
the woman who is becoming
has learned to song of the toad
how the restless lights
of lawns and gardens
draw fluttering moths
how ancient the pull of desire
in the waiting darkness
how cool the morning grass
how the jewel of light rests
between the eyes
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Day 39:
I took up my bamboo shrug project today. I haven’t worked on it for a long time, so I had to figure out the pattern of stitches again, and I made two rows before I realized that I had started at the wrong point in the pattern, so I unraveled back to my starting point and got it right the second time. I love the silky softness of this yarn.
Happy National Poetry Month!
Hunger
by Beth Weaver-Kreider
What are you really hungry for?
–Rob Brezsny
Today I have the hunger of the crow,
that is to say, ravenous for shiny,
starving for the artful view
of chimney tops and aerials,
roof ledges, and nests high
and twiggy in the sycamore,
near to where the eagles feed
their own insatiable young.
Today hunger resides not in my belly,
round as it is with the recent birth
of my cronehood, but is lodged
somewhere inside my indigo eye,
deeper dark even than my wings.
If I could, I would consume the world
with my shining eyes, filling my soul
with the map of my unquenchable yearning.
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Mockingbird Chronicles 