Life is but a weavingMy life is but a weaving
Between my God and me.
I cannot choose the colours
He weaveth steadily.
Oft’ times He weaveth sorrow;
And I in foolish pride
Forget He sees the upper
And I the underside.
Not ‘til the loom is silent
And the shuttles cease to fly
Will God unroll the canvas
And reveal the reason why.
The dark threads are as needful
In the weaver’s skilful hand
As the threads of gold and silver
In the pattern He has planned.
He knows, He loves, He cares;
Nothing this truth can dim.
He gives the very best to those
Who leave the choice to Him.
- Author Unknown
- Author Unknown
8 comments:
Perfect poem, excellent reminder. Thanks for sharing.
Gorgeous!!
I love the poem and the pictures. Great inspiration for this Wednesday morning.
That's a very thoughtful poem; whichever higher being one believes in, or even if you don't believe at all, it must surely speak to everyone.
Lovely poem! Did you make that piece? It is wonderful, either way!
Beautiful poem and only God knows the beautiful creation it will be before He even sets to work on it.
Missing you!
Love and Hugs ~ Kat
What an interesting piece of poetry. It is worthy of some meditation. I like how you tied it together with the photo of the woven mat.
Lovely!!!
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