cigarette before dawn

before dawn, I curl myself
into a single cigarette
and forget for a moment
that I am anything other than
lips, than smoke, than
the act of exhaling

when I write such things,
I am shifting the silences
into a semblance of meaning,
wrapping words around the hours
too late to be called night,
too early yet to be morning

and I am grateful for
the hard end of the bench
I press my back against
while I wait for something –
anything – to progress
beyond the gray plumes
that loop the air before me

© Sarah Whiteley

a welcoming heart

tonight I am knitting
a tiny sweater
the colors of twilight
so that you (stranger’s babe)
might understand how beautiful
some endings may be

and at the finish,
three little owl buttons
firmly fastened
so that you (sweet mite)
may learn to see the light
through life’s trees

nearly half a mile
of well-wishes in
carefully laid stitches,
so that you (bright spark)
might know the warmth
of a welcoming heart

© Sarah Whiteley

Lately I have been (to my own detriment) so very wrapped up in things that for the most part I cannot control. Finally, I’ve said “that’s enough!” and decided I really needed to do something productive and meaningful that has nothing to do with me or my current frustrations. So I found a hospital on a reservation that accepts donations in the form of warm clothes and blankets for the babies of new mothers and I decided to jump into it whole-heartedly.

I’ve made one rule for myself when I’m knitting these items – I must focus on the recipient of this item and remove all thoughts of my own worries from my head. Every stitch I knit should be done with good thoughts and intentions for this new life just starting out in the world. I’ll post a picture of the sweater when I’m done (I’m loving how it’s turning out). And then I’ll move on to sweater #2 with a more peaceful mind and an even lighter heart.