Soul Weaver

Soul Weaver sits at Her Wheel
Expert fingers gather the finest firmaments
Gold, silver, sapphire blue
Fine fibers barely visible
a glittering spider’s web
See how gently
She pulls apart each strand
how Her loom presses deep
into the bone marrow of sorrow
hallowing the heartache of suffering
All the while
She gathers
She spins
Her wheel turns
day after day
night after night
lifetime after lifetime
Is it possible to know Her ultimate Design?
Her Reason Why?
No, it is in the spinning,
the gathering,
the plucking of each string
the tender caress
of each costly, precious thread
how it vibrates and sings
its most sacred song
a symphony of Beauty