Contentment

Sun falls in my lap dancing on my yarn. Voices bounce in and out, joy and happiness hand in hand, soft fur against my skin, a cold wet nose nudging for affection, blue eyes reflecting love and a promise of all that will be and all that can be found in a pair of strong arms

tension

Holding taut and yet not tight, the whisper of weight hovers on a finger caught between the ball and the garment. Rhythmic motions back and forth, uniformity amongst a row of soilder stitches making neatness out of air. Tension that is not stress, but my inner fabric woven from years of doing and being. It holds all things together. It holds my peace and my harmony.

Just knitting

Steam rising as tea slowly cools, momentarily forgotten as stitches slip seamlessly from needle to needle. Back and forth, structure growing, pleasure in the making, soul soothing progress.
Stitch after stitch, row after row thoughts entwine and time passes. Contentment rises and tea goes cold. Pieces finished, lying waiting for completeness. Soon. Soon say the needles.