For Toads Challenge: Recalled To Life
Soul Woven Word Thread
Mother used to mend socks,
weaving new thread back and forth
across hole in worn fabric.
Wish it were that easy to mend
broken threads in connections
between past and present.
Or, breach between people who
used to be friends, soul mates that
can no longer quite reach one another.
What kind of string would be needed
to patch a soul abused, worn so thin
that wind whistles through it?
Am not my mother, nor Penelope,
with her on again off again tapestry.
Woven each day, unraveled each night.
Only simple poet. Weaver of words
that seldom get heard, sometimes
are not even spoken.
Yet words, woven with hope, might connect
present to future, reattach friend to friend,
might even mend hole, to stop chilling wind
which blows through a soul once broken.
Elizabeth Crawford 2/25/11
Process Notes: This is the nth version of an old poem. While trying to meet the current challenge, found myself writing familiar words, echoes of images used in the past. Went looking and found several past pieces that somehow culminated in this one. At least two of those versions are actually here in the archives on this site. This one was taken from the manuscript I put together for the PAD Challenge in November, for Poetic Asides. However, it too has undergone a bit of tweaking. This piece might better be titled The Poet’s Spiral, lol.
I love both titles. Perhaps they each deserve a poem of their own? So many wonderful images. My grandmother could do such beautiful mending, tiny stitches, envied far and wide. I am thinking it is the “silk” of the black widow, which is sooooo strong, maybe a good choice to mend the soul? But to end the whistling? That is unknown to me. And the weaving during the day, unraveled at night, wonderful metaphor! Maybe it is to accept the shilling wind after a hot day in the desert? All gifts, and it is said the broken heart makes room, perhaps it is so of the soul? The lost makes room for another? And maybe that is what we need, big roomy souls? There is pain in the moment, as with a broken bone, but there is the possibility of mending. Mend, bend, tend, tender, some of my favorite words.
Perhaps all used in mending the soul?
I am considering the loss of friends. They went away without notice, no note was found, the wheel turns, the river flows, we have no choice, sometimes things become a part of the past, and we are now of this present moment. There is a gulf, but there is no way to build a bridge that will span such a distance. I think sometimes we have no choice but to accept, send our best wishes, love, hugs and kisses, face forward, take the next step, become lost in what the universe prepares for us. There will always be a little sorrow, but we cannot always turn our backs to the world and only look at what is past.
Wonderful write! I love this little patch, this little piece of mending.
Thank you Annell, and because I actually wore some of those mended socks, I know those patches were far stronger than the original material. I think, believe we all have holes in our souls, and I believe our creativity is the main thread used to mend them.
A fantastically deep poem, skilled “weaver of words”. I especially love the last stanza and the final line. Powerful writing.
Sherry, thank you for your generous words. I seem to go back to this image often and find comfort and enlightenment there. Must thank my Mother for that reality,
Very powerful Elizabeth.
Love how the first stanza lulls us into a ‘homey’ sense of security, sending us off into our own memories with clear pictures that continue on through the first three stanzas until we reach the oh, so powerful. . .
‘What kind of string would be needed
to patch a soul abused, worn so thin
that wind whistles through it?’
I liked this very much Elizabeth.
Susannah, thank you. When Mom mended those socks, she used a burnt out lightbulb, thrusting it into the worn sock to create a flat surface upon which to weave the thread. Perhaps we each need to be that lightbulb when mending the holes in our souls.
This is remarkable and I can relate to wanting to reconnect and mend souls. My husband n’ his family are far removed. Their battles have worn so thin… The string of love should be enough, but it isn’t sometimes. This is hauntingly beautiful; profound wisdom~ I am so glad YOU shared it with us~ I’m listening to your weaving of words xXx Great Poem~
Thank you so much Ellen. I think we are all called and recalled to mend the worn places where life has thinned our souls to the breaking point. I’m fairly certain that is why I have so many versions using this imagery. Perhaps its time to find another?
This response to the challenge has touched me on a personal level, especially the stanza about friendships lost, seemingly unmendable holes and all that’s left to be done is throw away that old sock! Some how, your words offer hope… when the time is right, the correct thread will be found and soul mates will reach one another again.
Yes, Kerry, I have to believe that or go crazy from that whistling wind. Thank you and I’m glad you were touched by my words. That brings a much deeper value to them,
Elizabeth, so beautifully put about our journey through life.
We all have holes in souls, some more than others. Without
heartbreak how we ever really appreciate happiness.
Thank you Pamela, I agree with you, but also know that is a hard one to comprehend when one is in the midst of that heartbreaking experience. We can only know that after the fact, and after we stop thinking and feeling that we may never truly know happiness again.
I think with each reworking, you must be doing a lot of soul-searching and personal questing. I wish it were that easy to mend broken threads – however frayed. Your use of the metaphor is both resonant and full of individual truths.
RJ you think absolutely right on. I have always been a seeker in search of the meaning of self. Even before I knew there were words to define my life of questions and answers that only begged more questions. And no, it isn’t easy to mend all the frayed ends, but it is certainly worth the effort to continually try. At least, I have found that pursuit worth engaging in, and sometimes even rewarding. Thanks again for your wisdom and recognition,
I liked that a lot — a potent message, well delivered.
Lol, Madelaine, this is the image I saw in my head as I read your words: She bows coyly, then runs like hell before anyone sees or notices her dirty bare feet. Thanks for that one,