VICKI HOFFMAN BECK
There Are Threads in My Life
The early threads are soft,
Golden fiber to the touch.
Golden fiber to the touch.
Unmarked, no judgment, simple needs of
Baby talk, rocking chair sweet.
They grow into woven fibers that flow
They grow into woven fibers that flow
With curiosity and explorations.
Toddler years touch, see, taste, hear, and feel
Worlds beyond a room and house.
New discoveries sew fabric rich,
New discoveries sew fabric rich,
Patterns that pulse and play.
Colorful, joyful, promises and feats
Lead to uncharted lands and people.
Bound only by bold imagination,
Bound only by bold imagination,
A tapestry of flowering fields
Morphs into lifetime pursuits, and pauses
To hold all that's dear.
Blankets over fresh new infants,
Children to come,
Lives to shape,
Blankets over fresh new infants,
Children to come,
Lives to shape,
Love to share.
The cloth covers and protects,
The cloth covers and protects,
Teaches and encourages,
New worlds to explore
From fibers that flourish.
A woven circle coils into itself,
From fibers that flourish.
A woven circle coils into itself,
Building strength and bonds
From depth and beauty.
Gifts of the earth and sun.
Life springs into life.
Gifts of the earth and sun.
Life springs into life.
Love into love.
Memories into more
Memories.
Memories into more
Memories.