Behind every life a Weaver ultimately
stands shrouding His plan for every man.
Dark threads are needful in the Master's
skillful hands for He knows the pattern He has planned.
What tapestry in mama's heart He wove, the
sacrifice self was decomposed. Love was
her goal, to train me up in ways I went with
Mama the time was well spent. His tapestry thread
of gold.
I've learned life's lessons when I've
grieved with lashes wet that God's plans
are right. Each life closes into
night and death has fused out temporal
light that this time is perfectly right.
The Weaver is interweaving the silver in the horizon of night.
The loom of which she's wove can never be diffused by
temporal light, for in thee does she repose. A crown of Glory she holds, she's the lily pure and white that He chose.
Wow, What a concept for a poem although a different format. Read mine - Mother Dear, O Mother Dear- Adeline
i don't know what to say it is so............full of love and it is just perfect in its way loved it thank you so much for sharing it with us love, payal
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Again an Interesting poem. In answer please read mine - If There Be No God - Adeline