In honor of poetry month, I have written a knitter's poem.
She Died with her Cashmere Intact
by Roxanna Matthews
A ball of yarn is, like an egg,
full of potential. Who knows what will hatch
from this innocent oval, this
incubator of possibilities?
As long as I don't knit it, this yarn
could be anything.
As long as I don't knit it, this yarn
is everything!
As long as I don't knit it, this yarn
will always be there to be knit -
ready for the perfect pattern, project, person,
when perfection comes around.
Ah, darling--you do understand the heart of the matter, don't you?
ReplyDeleteOh bravo.
ReplyDeleteIt's the possibilites and dreams that live in the skein that make me pick it up and bring it home with me. You captured it perfectly.
ReplyDeleteIt is about the possibilities, isn't it!
ReplyDeleteSome of us accumulate more potential than others! Great poem.
ReplyDeleteAs always, you say it so well. xx
ReplyDeleteI love it. I thought I was the only one who didn't use things, because I might find a better use for it later.
ReplyDeleteMmmm? Do you think if we were living fully in the present, we wouldn't save for later? Something to ponder.
Barb