Each life, like a crazy quilt wall built of brick and stone.
Some, solid and stolid with purpose and strength.
Others, a patchwork of experiences each bringing flavor and beauty.
This day a brick, or perhaps a lucky random stone,
lending it's own flare to the structure.
In the end, we are what we build.
We are what we allow to be layered into our own construction.
We each have the power to include and exclude,
tear down and build up our own individual wall.
Some of us, some lucky few of us.... have the fortune to blend
our handiwork with another's, melding strengths and loves
till the joining together brings something wondrous and lasting,
without peer and beyond the ken of most.
Some very, very few of us.
Some, solid and stolid with purpose and strength.
Others, a patchwork of experiences each bringing flavor and beauty.
This day a brick, or perhaps a lucky random stone,
lending it's own flare to the structure.
In the end, we are what we build.
We are what we allow to be layered into our own construction.
We each have the power to include and exclude,
tear down and build up our own individual wall.
Some of us, some lucky few of us.... have the fortune to blend
our handiwork with another's, melding strengths and loves
till the joining together brings something wondrous and lasting,
without peer and beyond the ken of most.
Some very, very few of us.
4 comments:
love the poem and picture...can you make them into a picture and sell me a copy?
Judy,
Need no cash to change hands. Yes, I can easily turn it into something that can be framed. Printing is another matter... I don't have that kind of printer. But S does! You'll just have to remind me when school gets a little less crazy and I have more time.
I have a printer. Ok, I'll remind you over the summer. Tell S to tell J to tell A that I said hi. On second thought, maybe leave A out of it.
Lol!
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