this patchwork of dreams,
and regrets sewn together,
with years of work,
and forgetting,
family and friends,
beneath the sky...
with dirt on my hands,
and seeds in the dirt,
waiting for water,
and a little care.
It's not perfect
this patchwork of faith,
and doubts stitched together,
with sleepless nights,
howling at the moon,
waiting for angels,
and the rising sun...
as our kids go to school,
and then into the world,
we created for them,
where are our pillows,
as we wait for leaves to change?
It's not perfect,
this patchwork of life
and hopes sewn together,
holding hands as we walk,
slowly on the pathway,
waiting for another day,
beneath this sky,
upon this Earth...
mud on our shoes.
