Living Tree Poetry

I weave

I never stop stitching
what you unstitch.
I never stop repairing
what you tear.

I mend

Frayed edges,
and holes on knees.
Those places you’re rubbed raw,
I take and restore.

Gently, tenderly

I come behind
carrying the thread.
I put together what had you undone,
I tend to each of your needs.

I weave

I weave together,
all the loose ends.
You won’t unravel
in me.

I mend.

Ana Lisa de Jong
October 2016

Painting by Catrin Welz-Stein
(Obtained from Pinterest)