One day they cried
Oh starry night, oh wintry globe
heaven's lighted pathway bright.
Oh, come Lord Jesus, come. Do come and
mend my weary heart and soul, mind and tongue. Oh come.
In this I am reflected or find my home,
spun with lamb's wool following
a labyrinth of nails believing
that darkness cannot overcome light.
With this piece I feel at home, at peace, serene and seen.
It is lumpy, awkward, unprofessional – of what real value is it?
Not a blanket, nor a rug, nor a hanging to hold in heat nor
separate one from the dark.
But still. Still life calls us to awake to what is not said, is not yet spoken -
that which can only be spoken incompletely, in love, in hope
with raucous relief and laughter.
Icelandic wool and Leicester long wool tailspun yarn: by Jennifer King