God is weaving a new design

    in the tapestry of my life.

THE WEAVER 

My life is but a weaving 

    Between my Lord and me; 

I cannot choose the colors; 

    He worketh steadily. 

Ofttimes He weaveth sorrow, 

    And I in foolish pride 

Forget 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 reason why 

The dark threads were as needful 

    In the Weaver's skillful hand 

As the threads of gold and silver 

    In the pattern He has planned. 

  

                                   - Benjamin Malachi Franklin