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The Weaver For my mother
Petals forming Soft as dew Fresh and clean
Master’s Hand Spinning Weaving Purpose seen
Glory rising Scent delighting Lifting Pleasing Truth defining ...
Petals blooming Colors bright Bees attracting Tickling sight
Breeze swaying Dancing Singing Nature’s song Concordant tune Master’s fingers playing ... Petals waning Softer hue Richer fragrance Heavier dew
Softer tune Avoiding strain Swaying lightly In the falling rain
Master humming As he works Still designing Still refining Glory drawing Stitching Weaving Purpose still believing ... Petals falling Letting go Drifting lightly To the floor
Vision falters Sight beyond The visual The things designed
Nature’s beauty Quickly fading Colors, scents Harmonic swaying
Master’s Hand Gently weaving Wrapping up Life’s humble cleaving
Hands reaching Gently calling Catching petals Finally falling Into the Master’s Hand ... Petals forming Soft as dew The Master made them Strong and new In His Presence Finally resting Purpose clear And understood... Life’s journey Led to Him And it was good
No other reason No better plan Than ending here In the Master’s Hand |