It sings and it dances. It laughs and it cries. It heals and it hurts.
It's rhythmic.
Morning and night,
Spring, summer, winter, fall
Ocean waves, blowing leaves, singing birds.
Sweeping, baking, and hanging laundry to dry.
It fills those who open to it and give it away.
And it's the strongest in a child, my child.
And I will knit us a blanket with it.
Warm and tight.