Word Weaver
Tell me how you weave
words of quiet strength
into impetuous textures
of striped hablon :
"The pursuit of truth will set you free
Even if you never catch up with it."
Or twill the threads
Of the weft and the warp
On a loom for a prized ikat:
" Our God is not an aspirin that we take
Only when we are sick. HE is our daily
nourishment, like bread and water."
And spin the chosen yarns
of gold, green, and crimson
finally webbed
into fine, lustrous silk:
" Discover the perfect moment
when the dream and the dreamer are one."
And then again
interweave cottony fabric
of kapok-weightless, transparent
to create a filamentous organza:
" Anyone who thinks the sky is the limit
has a limited imagination."
And yet again
interlace coats of dense, soft, curly hair
fleeced from shaggy sheep
for my sturdy wool:
" What we say is patience is often just a
lack of courage to change the situation."
Word weaver,
weave some more
to drape around
my body.
2/24/88
