Tuesday, February 6, 2018

My life is just a weaving (B. M. Franklin)

  My life is just a weaving 
Between my Lord and me.  
I cannot choose the colors 
He weaves so skillfully. 
Sometimes 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 explain the reasons why –   
The dark threads are as needful 
In the Weaver’s skillful hands 
As the threads of gold and silver 
In the pattern He has planned. 

--The Weaver, B. M. Franklin, (1882-1965)   

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