Quilter

November 11

QUILTER

What more comfort can exist in the world than a conglomeration of turned edges and love?  Fancy stitches or not, the assembled world of cloth stands testament to devotion and diligence.  Careful collections, meaningful to the collector and mysterious to the possessor, fulfill the primal urge to shelter and be safe.  Time is testimony to endurance.  Thread against thread, solidarity is strength embracing flexibility.  The bed of life is made and remade daily with the affection of kind quilters’ needles of love.

Find a room for zeal.

*

Wrong as wrong as wrong can be

To be wrong in my family and in my past

meant to be tortured and I prefer death to torture,

so being wrong meant death or longing for death.

I tried never to be wrong

as a way to stave of the desire to leap from tall buildings;

I did not turn into superman,

wonder woman or mighty mouse through my efforts.

I did turn into someone else;

I became a cartoon of a real person,

two dimensional and overflowing with irrational color.

Now I see how wrong, wrong can be.

Wrong is not an allowable excuse to be tormented.

It can be the turning point for knowledge if I choose

or the stairway to something deep dark and ugly;

my choice, always my choice.

You are reading selections from Sober on the Way to Sane and More Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault

http://www.amazon.com/Sober-On-The-Way-Sane/dp/1440417342/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1388576888&sr=8-1&keywords=sober+on+the+way+to+sane

http://www.amazon.com/More-Lines-From-My-Life/dp/1448677203/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1388576956&sr=8-1&keywords=More+Lines+From+My+Life

To Your Health

October 29

To Your Health

Health is a pleasure; health restored is celebration girded with gratitude.  The shock of illness quickly imbeds itself to an irrefutable unchangeable fact.  When this veil is lifted the body responds with glee, the soul with relief touched with disbelief.  The satisfaction of being hale is the bedrock and once this is shaken its return is nothing more than astonishing.  I am never more aware of the miraculous nature of life than when I feel alive once more after having felt the doom of sickness.

Throw out ancestral trash

*

QUILTER

What more comfort can exist in the world
Than a conglomeration of turned edges and love?
Fancy stitches or not the assembled world of cloth
Stands testament to devotion and diligence.

Careful collections, meaningful to the collector
And mysterious to the possessor,
Fulfill the primal urge to shelter and be safe.
Time is testimony to endurance.

Thread against thread,
Solidarity is strength embracing flexibility.
The bed of life is made and remade daily
With the affection of kind quilters needles of love.

You are reading selections from More Sober on the Way to Sane and Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault

http://www.amazon.com/More-Sober-The-Way-Sane/dp/144141231X/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1374072329&sr=8-3&keywords=sober+on+the+way+to+sane

http://www.amazon.com/Lines-My-Life-Sherrie-Theriault/dp/1448652820/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1374072576&sr=1-1&keywords=Lines+from+my+life%2C+Sherrie+theriault

Quilter

November 11

QUILTER

What more comfort can exist in the world than a conglomeration of turned edges and love?  Fancy stitches or not, the assembled world of cloth stands testament to devotion and diligence.  Careful collections, meaningful to the collector and mysterious to the possessor, fulfill the primal urge to shelter and be safe.  Time is testimony to endurance.  Thread against thread, solidarity is strength embracing flexibility.  The bed of life is made and remade daily with the affection of kind quilters’ needles of love.

Find a room for zeal.

*

Wrong as wrong as wrong can be

To be wrong in my family and in my past

meant to be tortured and I prefer death to torture,

so being wrong meant death or longing for death.

I tried never to be wrong

as a way to stave of the desire to leap from tall buildings;

I did not turn into superman,

wonder woman or mighty mouse through my efforts.

I did turn into someone else;

I became a cartoon of a real person,

two dimensional and overflowing with irrational color.

Now I see how wrong, wrong can be.

Wrong is not an allowable excuse to be tormented.

It can be the turning point for knowledge if I choose

or the stairway to something deep dark and ugly;

my choice, always my choice.