I could fall into your blue squares,
pieced together stitch by stitch.
The tea pots promise reflection,
the curling leaves thread across the quilt's
perfectly shaded, soft yellow squares;
these background colors fade,
and I don't quite recognize
the precision of each square,
I'm lost in blue,
the choices we make.
A quilter knows her design,
what fabrics to choose,
when to sew, and
when to rip away
to create that
balance between
being
and becoming.
3 comments:
Ok, wow, the words used are brilliant.
Also, i never knew an entire village keeps such quilts outside at display. That seems unique.
You have a wonderful way to put the beauty of these quilts into words. Looks like a great place to be, Sisters, Oregon.
I'd love to try quilting should I ever find the time between my knitting projects :)
Beautiful poem leading into the intricacies of a blue sky quilt project...
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