Atop a barren oak tree she
found a spot that accommodated
her quite well,
Curious eyes cast toward
the heavens, each star a
hole in the Patchwork
universe, waiting to be
Stitched. She was a
Seamstress, willing those tears
closed with her relentless gaze.
It was in that position she began to
ponder things one does
not ponder, to think
the unthinkable.
The holes in the sky,
a mirror image of
the very holes that littered
the fabric of her mind, not yet
mended by the answers she so
eagerly sought.
But each tender
thought she thought
offered more to her beautiful
Patchwork Quilt.
And thread did ever so frequently
wind its way through the
eye of her curiosity,
stitching together these pieces.
But as she sewed, she couldn’t
help but hope that her Quilt
would be big enough to
cover the others.
For she was the only Seamstress left.