Midnight Oil

by Jill Crainshaw

A solitary light beaconed from the distance

                in the wee hours just before

                dawn cracked open the darkness.

Burning the midnight oil.

The Creating One in the beginning of beginnings

—sewing and seaming, stitching

                roots into the earth, fashioning fine

                spring things to adorn bluebirds and bumblebees

                daffodils and dandelions, embroidering soulful

                soil with a smile and breathing into it a

                sigh of delight.

Burning the midnight oil.

A solitary light beaconed from another window

in the wee hours just before
dawn cracked open the darkness.

Burning the midnight oil.

She, created by the Creating One

—whirring and chirring, snipping and clipping,

                weary-wise fingers urging one more scrap

                of this bit of blue, that piece of red

    beneath the ever-marching
    needle-foot of that old Singer Sewer
    Model 301A she kept coaxing and

                cajoling into action one more time

                to fashion an Easter dress or a pair

                of jeans or, one time, a man’s leisure suit.

Burning the midnight oil.

All other eyes in the house, on the street, shuttered tight

                while she followed with single-hearted gaze

                thread that danced and dipped beneath the

material surface, not noticing the

pale winter moon kissing her hand

as the clock ticked on until she sat back

and embroidered into a girl’s last minute

request a tired sigh of delight.

Burning the midnight oil.

The light in that window rests now, but vital

sacred strands spool on at the unfurling edge

of a new crack in a resurrecting dawn, fervent

fibers holding us together

—held in our hands—

                you and I piecing together hope from

                torn and tearing hearts, called by the

                Creating One

“Burn the midnight oil.”

* * * * *

Jill Crainshaw is a professor at Wake Forest University School of Divinity in Winston-Salem, North Carolina. She enjoys exploring how words give voice to unexpected ideas, insights and visions.