Raíces: Rooted in Faith, Familia, and Friendship

We didn’t let go gracefully.
The intricate pattern of our textile was complete.
Such bright colors, even flecks of gold could be seen.

Leave the imperfections.
Leave the beginning stitches that lacked a groove or rhythm
Before experience took over.
Before we hummed and clicked into a finished piece.

No, you tugged and I pulled.
The snags unsettled us.
A stitch that was too tight screamed out to us and we thought we could loosen it a bit.
One that was too loose scared us with its openness, oozing vulnerability.
We didn’t want that anybody to see that.

Had we removed the needles from the equation, we might have remained
Crooked but still good.
Yet we stabbed, yanking until we unraveled.

We can only remember that it was once pretty.
We hold up the beautiful loose yarn to the light,
Trying to get others to imagine what it looked like.
They smile at us piteously, uncomfortably waiting for our story to be over
So they can move on with their day.