Memory Quilt. . . in triumph warmed. . . .


 

Many of us have problems that have no resolution.   Even after doing all the things we have learned and read about and even those things we have invented, there appear no answers on the horizon.   We lose hope and we ourselves are at a loss. 

It seems strange and baffling that nothing is working.   It is then we confront the heavens and with a put up or shut up attitude, bow to a greater strength.   For if we don’t, then we must admit we are the strength for all time and all things.  And find it exhausting.  We may find ourselves powerless, unable.  Often we give up too soon,  never stretching our psychic muscles, so to speak.   And I would venture the great majority never pit themselves against the Great God and that is a pity. 

For regardless who or what it is we worship and revere, that SOMETHING  will pull strength from us when confronted over strongest arguments of whatever nature.   This is good.   For there are few times in the normal course of living where we pit ourselves against pain intentionally, be it emotional, psychological or physical.   We avoid it at all costs.   But when pushed to the wall,  there is that SOMETHING in us required, whether it is heaven’s requisition or our unconscious need to measure ourselves.

It is necessary for us to see how we measure up not only to our own estimation but against our parents and our peers.  And the latter can be so important that we look for arguments that are long and drawn out to see how well we fare in the battle.   This is not only true on a personal,  private level but think how our leaders pride themselves on the greater national and international stages.   And how many wars are fought because of this need to test mettle by those very leaders vowing that this war will end all wars.

 Some of us do this testing early on, setting a new direction and recovering in good health.  The puzzle pieces have a sought for place.   Others in despair require more time because their unresolves are more complex, but even they eventually realize their strength is a dependable strength. 

 Many lives are brought to fruition and our eventualities are all timely. 

Memory Quilt. . .

When it is time I will draw high
my memory quilt to cover shivering bones.

Pictured will be events richly patterned
and pleasing to the soul.

Astonishing not to recall emotions
pressed beyond belief, battles fought
to frightful finishes.

Left like barnacles clinging
to a disabled craft, slippery in substance,
suitable only for discard.

When it is time, the memory quilt drawn
will show kaleidoscoped events
lending warmth to fragile skin,

haunting in their beauty remembered,
while I take flight

in triumph warmed.

 

(The photo is of  my granddaughter’s treasure
of her shirts collected for me to make this quilt
of her young life.)

 

 

         

                   

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One response to “Memory Quilt. . . in triumph warmed. . . .”

  1. email from Maria . . .What a wonderful and comforting image your poem creates Veronica. Thank you. Love Maria

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