When a group of people,
Usually women,
Get together
Eat and drink
And knit and sew and
Work on crafty projects
It was lovely to watch
Women working on
Patchwork quilts
And curtains
And bags
Made from pretty fabrics
How delightful to participate
For one afternoon
In this world
Of feeding and project making
The whir and rattle of
Sewing machines
The chatter of women
And new mothers
Their three tiny babies
Hanging out in basinets
Or on blankets on the floor
The eldest of the three
Six months old
Reveling in her newly acquired skill of
Rolling Over
You can almost see joy in her face
When gravity, and a little effort,
Changes her view of the world
Yet understanding with complete clarity
This is not my world
I have no desire to be a mother
To cradle
And rock a little one to sleep
To discuss feeding habits
Or diaper changes
Or what foods to eat to produce more breast milk
Or where to seek useful information
On all of the above
Colouring a mandala
And knowing
All of our stories, choices, and worlds
Are different
And that we all contribute to the vast
Patchwork of life
With our own forms of creation
The end.
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