the river beneath

The river beneath

There is a long tradition of pieced quilts.

I mean the tradition of arranging shapes and patterns,

the tradition of juxtaposing colour with narrative,

the tradition of cloth’s intimacy,

the tradition of finding self in a quilt project

in those interrupted moments from daily responsibilities.

Moving the pieces, making small adjustments,

finding the river that flows deep within,

the one beneath the river of time passing.

This is a quilt that holds years

of starting and stopping,

looking and thinking,

yearning and seeking,

touching and dreaming.