The Weaver

My life is but a weaving
Between my Creator and me.
I cannot choose the colours,
As S/He worketh steadily.

Oft-times S/He weaveth sorrow,
And I, in foolish pride,
Forget S/He sees the upper
And I the underside.

Not till the loom is silent
And the shuttles cease to fly,
Shall God unroll the canvas
And explain the reasons why

The dark threads are as needful
In the Weaver’s skilful hand,
As the threads of gold and silver
In the pattern S/He has planned.

S/He knows and loves and cares –
Nothing this truth can dim,
And S/He gives the best to those
Who leave the choice to Her/Him.

But then, one fine day, we wake up to the
Realisation that the only freedom we
Earthlings always had was the
Decision of how to react to any
Kind of situation that comes our way.

And when we at last wake up to the
Presence of God’s Universal
Law of cause and effect or Karma,
The goodness and kindness of the
Highest Forces of life at last lay the
Rudder for steering the boat of our life
In the desired direction.

Created by Anon.
Adapted by Aquarius
Updated July 2020

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