My great grandpuppy was a bootlegger…

My great grandpuppy was a bootlegger…
Moving contraband through the mountains of Tennessee…
To him it was all about money, not love and mercy…
He died drinking a bad batch of 150 proof…
Four paws up.
 
My great grandmuppy was a quilter…
I still have some of her embroidered psalms on the wall…
To her it was all about love and mercy, not money…
Those psalms still speak.
 
Her life taught me to never be alone in my head…
That like her needle and thread, each breath of life is special…
An intricate work of embroidered art…
Like the patterns sketched on the wings of a hummingbird.
 
It’s funny that wisdom is always just outside our field of view…
It’s like we wait for it to come to us while we sit imprisoned in our little shoeboxes…
Yet inside us is the light to find it…
Our light leads to the giver of light.
 
So, what if life is full of words we cannot understand…
Long words are just short words put together…
I would love to make you an embroidered psalm to explain it all…
But unfortunately, I’m hopeless at quilting.
 
I love you,
 
Annie