A Quilt in North Nebraska

                            

     Copyright 12-2009   Al "Doc" Mehl

 

 

There’s a quilt in north Nebraska,

That’s been sewn into the land;

Rolling grass fields are the fabric,

And the batting’s made of sand.

 

It’s been trimmed at the horizon

Where it’s pinned against the sky;

Ev’ry stock tank is a button,

Ev’ry windmill is a tie.

 

And the runs of old barb’d wire,

They are the braided threads with which

Nimble fingers sew a pattern;

Ev’ry fence post is a stitch.

 

Each square tells a family’s story,

Sewn inside a bound’ry fence;

That quilt chronicles a his’try

’Bout the trials of sustenance.

 

Formed of fabric from those lives,

That quilt will shield us from the storm;

Daytime’s tapestry breathes beauty,

Come the night, ’twill keep us warm.

 

Pieced a broad mosaic patchwork,

’Tis a blend of life and line;

I should think that some great spirit

Had a hand in the design.

 

Most folks picture the Almighty

In the image of a man.

But if judgin’ by that quilt,

I’d say God has a woman’s hands.