Bright-eyed young girl, Curious and crafty, Let’s start a project and learn to crochet. Tiring quickly, She abandoned the lesson. She couldn’t see past the first stitch- Obsessed with chains, with growing taller, The neverending line of connection So easily unfurled. Chains, chains, chains. Chains everywhere and every day. Quickly and carefully created by this crafty girl And unraveled even faster, The impermanence of childhood Displayed through her repetitive ritual. She lost interest as quickly As any other once-inspired child, And many years without crocheted chains passed Before a spark of inspiration woke her from her daze. Timid hands picked up threadbare yarn, dusted with age. Fingers moved as if possessed, Creating chains came so easily And her inner child was elated by the familiarity Of her once daily routine. The desire to unwind, to unfurl Pulled so strong within her, But the necessity To create, to give life, to build something that matters Overcame all else. She kept making chains. She made chains and then kept working. She kept building on the foundation To create something strong Something useful Something beautiful for herself. For herself, she kept creating.
Age-old stories of coming to America
With nothing but minuscule amounts of money
To determine worth
And sell your soul.
How can you free yourself
From societal binds and pressures
Without first succumbing to them?
Monopolize your time
Build properties on your day to day life
And watch them come tumbling down
With every step forward that you make.
Has the patriarchy crushed you?
What about all the world’s woes?
When are we free
If we have done nothing to fight?
Lace your shoes tight
And fight with your sole-
Getting closer to your goal
Step by step.
And youthful wonder
To gain something more mature.
It’s not abandoning the old
But keeping it in a memory box
Pulling out the past