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Not Unraveling . . . Yet

This morning . . . we have the sun rising on a new day.  And a pile of unruly blue knitting that is beginning to wear me out.

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It's the kind of pattern that leaves much to be desired in the construction-and-instruction department . . . and you can't really try the unruly thing on during the making . . . and I'm nearing the finish . . . and keeping my fingers crossed . . . that it all turns out in the blocking. 

But it's been decent and mindless pandemic knitting, so there is that.

Let's have a poem instead!

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The Cure
Albert Huffstickler

We think we get over things.
We don't get over things.
Or say, we get over the measles
but not a broken heart.
We need to make that distinction.
The things that become part of our experience
never become less a part of our experience.
How can I say it?
The way to "get over" a life is to die.
Short of that, you move with it,
let the pain be pain,
not in the hope that it will vanish,
but in the faith that it will fit in,
find its place in the shape of things
and be then not any less pain but true to form.
Because anything natural has an inherent shape
and will flow towards it.
And a life is as natural as a leaf.
That's what we're looking for:
not the end of a thing but the shape of it.
Wisdom is seeing the shape of your life
without obliterating (getting over) a single
instant of it.

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April is National Poetry Month, and each year, in April, I celebrate poetry here on my blog.  Hoping to win over some converts to the beauty and peace and accessibility of poetry.  Sharing something that brings me joy.

Today's poem was published in Poetry of Presence: An Anthology of Mindfulness Poems, 2017, Grayson Books, and edited by Phyllis Cole-Dar and Ruby R. Wilson.  Information about the author can be found here.

 

Comments

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Bonny

I hope the unruly blue knitting becomes something you are happy with when all is said and done. But that poem! "let the pain be pain, not in the hope that it will vanish, but in the faith that it will fit in..." Thanks for another poem that says what I've been feeling but don't have the words to express.

Vera

Yes! Another great poem. I love the line "Wisdom is seeing the shape of your life without obliterating (getting over) a single instant of it." Those words ring so true today.

Here's to unruly knitting ssettling down and fitting perfectly!

Judy

That poem came just when I needed it.

Carole

Oh geez, that knitting. I hope it's what you want it to be in the end! That poem is perfect for right now, I especially relate to the idea that pain will fit in where it's supposed to and create the shape of our life.

eileen

Beautiful poem, thanks Kym.

Kat

Oh that poem. Perfect! (and I hope your knitting turns out to be that too!) XO

Rhonda

Perfect for the day

Patty

I absolutely love that poem. Thank-you Kym. xo

Vicki

That sweater certainly looks (like it should be) cool... I hope it "comes out in the wash," or whatever. ;)

Kim Sheehan

Thanks so much for the poem!

Geri

Beautiful poem. Thanks for sharing. Wrestling with your knitting, no fun.

Jane

Let's hope that unruly blue knitting settles into place. I sure do like the color but then it is blue. Poets sometimes say it best. I agree that we don't get over things, we learn how to make them part of our lives.

Sarah

I will keep my fingers mentally crossed that the blue sweater is perfect when it's done! At the very least it looks like a fairly forgiving fit, so even if it's not exactly perfect, I'm hoping it'll still be very wearable and comfortable.

Thanks for sharing that lovely poem.

Carolyn Seymour Thomas

That poem literally took my breath away. I suppose there's a reason for that...

Mary

yeah, interesting construction is better for things that don't need to actually FIT! fingers crossed!! and thank you for the poem. one of my favorite things about April is the poems you share here!

Margene

Good luck with the sweater! Blocking perfectly reveals the beauty of what has been on your needles and I hope it is as you wish! The poem is relevant for today, but it reminds me of my late friend Margo and how she shaped the last year of her life.

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