A Poem: Mahi

My friend takes thread and embroiders with it,
each stitch an act of love.

I can take a word,
and sit
and watch it grow.

Who would have imagined
the poetry in it.

Others might see an idle moment,
an absorption inconsistent
with life’s constant current.

I say, what is life
but the seed,
the creative ebb and flow.

My friend makes beauty stitch by stitch.

Inhabits the hours
and the minutes,
impregnates them with holy intent.

Though she might not know it
as sacred attention,

absorbed as she is,
in her task.

Ana Lisa de Jong
Living Tree Poetry
April 2020

‘First page of the stitched journal.  Doing with what I have, in the tradition of mottainai, scraps and gifts of leftover lace are gathered and stitched with bits and pieces of dyed threads over the previous years.

I cherish those quiet moments spent with the soft threads, where life feels easy and I can relax in the touch of the gentle cloth. It provides a sanctuary to help me stay centered in the midst of a storm.

Stitch as an anchor for the soul.’
Fabienne Dorsman-Ray

Image: Memory cloth on Memory Loss II, Fabienne Dorsman-Ray

8 thoughts on “A Poem: Mahi

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