|A traditional rug being woven on a loom|
The warp and weft of family
is carpet thicker than blankets
and richer than the ground we walk
on and neglect. But there it is.
No matter how fringe-like we are,
no matter how obscure (as is
a knot connecting two thread ends)
within the pattern, there we are.
This woven rug warms and comforts
whomever it touches. And should
we complain or wonder about
our part in it, we might notice
outside concrete and grass connect
us, too. And, better yet, carpets
of dead leaves, pine needles, ash
and stone lie thick underneath us—
protecting, assuring newness
and resurrection. Both deep roots
and green shoots follow. We belong
here, too, in fringe and knot and seed.
Once we learn death, we discover
the warp and weft of family
is carpet strong enough to hold
our sighs and cries and wonder whys.
My blog poems are rough drafts.
Please respect my copyright.
© 2017 Susan L. Chast