I am scribbled on paper or typed on a processor.

I begin unkept and plain,

Raw and unsightly.

Although I’m comprised of numerous parts,

My whole is greater than my individuals.

If I were practiced by a patient, persevering hand,

I will show you another world,

Another eyes, another thought,

Another emotion, another heart,

Another struggle, another change.

I stitched my messages into the background,

Subtle, yet forthright;

They are intimate and dear.

And if you look closer,

They reflect the Creator’s hand.

I am a Craft.

~