Vision

Got this poem from Barefoot Barbara's blog. It made me cry. I know why, but on a deeper level it's also deep calling to deep and my mind hasn't quite been made privy to the knowledge (I love that place of mystery, when we are reminded how much more than our minds we are :)

Vision begins to happen in such a life
as if a woman quietly walked away
from the argument and jargon in a room
and sitting down in the kitchen, began turning in her lap
bits of yarn, calico and velvet scraps,
laying them out absently on the scrubbed boards
in the lamplight, with small rainbow-colored shells. ...
Such a composition has nothing to do with eternity,
the striving for greatness, brilliance --
only with the musing of a mind
one with her body, experienced fingers quietly pushing
dark against bright, silk against roughness,
pulling the tenets of a life together
with no more will to mastery,
only care ....

from "Transcendental Etudes" by Adrienne Rich