A Poem from a Film Still

The following poem came from a film by Kimsooja titled A Needle Woman. Sometimes a still or picture seems to whisper to me a whole life, this poem developed that way. Here is a link to the film still at the artist's website. The image on the right is the needle woman lying on a rock. My poem was first published in Mystic Horizons, an online lit journal which has gone dark.

View of a Film Still from Kimsooja’s A Needle Woman

Father, I mend your shirt. Its grayed silk soft in my arms.

This view of Kitakyushu with its racing river

looks the same as water standing still.

I am surface, smooth rock against vibrant sky,

slate and azure. I am your needle woman.

A strand of hair at nape of neck becomes my thread.

My body is the needle holding two worlds. I sew together

the field of time where stone and air meet. When mother

hands me clothing to patch my thought is always I am needed,

I am quiet. This I do with the needle’s voice.

Father, what the needle tells me of your shirt

I see again in cloud, ledge and sky.

The fabric stronger for the patching,

more beautiful well-worn. This shirt holds

the shape of your chest, the olive odors of your skin.

I give it back to you mended, whole.

A look through my needle exposes

hip curved into rock. Another look shows

open horizon. Inside my own heartbeat I study

the needle’s point. The slender metal stabs fabric,

emerges to fingers underneath. Blindly I guide the needle.

My fingers anxious, willing to be pierced.

Mother hands me another shirt saying, mend first,

and in so doing you will create.

Patricia L. Johnson