Crafty Child

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.

Where We Came From

Let’s reminisce

About the days

When we were old enough

To know better

But young enough

Not to care.

When we spent

Our hard earned money

On temporary satisfaction

Gone as soon

As they’d been obtained.

Liquid courage

To get us through

The days to come-

And the only things

We have to show

For our mistakes

Are the friendships

That made us stronger

And the lessons

We’ll never forget.

 

Ocean Waves, Part 2

Our visit was brief

But necessary.

 

It was good to

Get back to my roots-

Seeing you

Brought back so many memories.

 

Hearing you call out to me

Made me feel like a toddler

Stumbling over their feet

When they’re learning to walk,

But trusting

That you’ll be there

To catch them

When they fall.

 

Thank you for reminding me

Of who I am-

The strength I was born with.

 

Our bittersweet goodbyes

Will not last forever.

 

I leave,

Walking away

With sand trailing behind me,

But turn back

For one last glance.

 

Just in time

To watch you wave.

 

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Rain

Isn’t it amazing

How the simplicity

Of water

Falling

Has the ability to

Purify the transgressions of the world

And set our minds at ease

To start anew?

The act of falling-

A devastating blow-

Occurs before we build

Ourselves back up.

 

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Getting Help

I want to tell you

How I’m feeling

But don’t want dependence

To weigh you down.

 

I want you to see

That I’m hurting.

It should be obvious

Without words.

 

I want to know

Why nobody is around

When I’m hurting the most

But I don’t want an audience

For my tears.

 

I want to be heard

But can’t help

Soldiering on in silence.

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Please consider making a donation to TIPPRblog to support more great content. Any donation is greatly appreciated!

$5.00