INSIDE:

The Fabric of Our Lives

Our fingers and hands are always kept busy -
weaving the fabric of our lives. But our hearts
have the time. We see you there, present.

We say, let me be of help. We say, Tell me all your
stories. Then, smiling, we say, Thank you. We listen
with our whole hearts to what you have to tell us.

We listen as we might to the sun's first warmth,
a sudden galloping storm, raindrops falling in a patter of
tiny silver hoofs on the plucked strings of a marimba.

Come, draw a bit closer into our circle. It's here we've 
grown patient and wise, daily more steady on our course - 
like the tortoise, with a lion's force to our words.

It's here we've grown strong because of the ways we
know how to listen, the ways we've learned how to share - 
picking up the burdens in our lives, one by one, together.

We weave grace into the fabric of our lives with the blue
curve of the sky, the clay ochre of earth, the bright sunshine
of yellow gourds. We weave hope into the fabric of our lives
in plantain-leaf shades of perennial green.

- Ruth Obee

BACK:

The Fabric of Our Lives 
(c) 2006
Cynthia Farrell Johnson
cfjfinearts@verizon.net