The Power Of A Quilt!

I know I wasn't feeling cold last night - perhaps it's the onset of Fall weather, and the promise of Winter, with all of its uncertainties, but I awoke at  3am, thinking about the multi-coloured crazy quilt that used to cover Mom & Dad's bed so many years ago.   I can remember sitting on that quilt with my sisters and playing travelling games on the beautiful landscape that we saw there; so many vibrant colours and textures - it fuelled our young imaginations!   I began wondering who had stitched that quilt - where all of the patches had originated - what clothing had been transformed.   As I wrapped myself in that warm memory, my older imagination kicked in and, lost in contemplation, I wrote the following poem:

My Crazy Quilt

Memories fade, and friends move on,

But in my heart they're bound;

I've pulled them into my crazy quilt

And stitched them all around.

I've pricked my finger many times,

But I soon forget the pain,

For my crazy quilt is a wondrous quilt,

That can never be made again.

I pull it 'round me every night

And I feel the love that's there,

All stitched up in my crazy quilt,

Each friend, a colour rare.

I've  travelled tracks, this way and that,

All up and down my life,

Those crooked stitches, funny patches,

Daughter, mother, wife.

My fingers trace the criss-cross path

That joins each memory,

And I wonder at the landscape fair

That my life has come to be.

As I live each day, I'll find a way

To gather patches new,

I'll pull them into my crazy quilt,

And I'll stitch them carefully too.

When the world seems scary, dark and dim,

I won't despair or moan,

For I'll feel the warmth of my crazy quilt,

And know I'm not alone.