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Generations

As I get swallowed up by love
I remember something
This quilt that lies upon my bed
With all its colored squares
Was made by a certain giggling girl
A few years before her marriage
A girl 40 years before her
Had slouched over her paints
Painting scenes of lakes and trees
Stampedes and pots and jars
Now as I get a splinter
From a peeling picture frame
I remember who has come before
And hope that I can add
Something I want, something I love
More than anything
To this patchwork quilt of love
And to the meaning within

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