THE LOOM OF TIME

Man's life is laid in the loom of time, To a pattern he does not see, While the weavers work and the shuttles fly, Til the dawn of eternity.

Some shuttles are filled with silver threads, And some with threads of gold, While often but the darker hues Are all that they may hold.

But the weaver watches with skillful eye Each shuttle fly to and fro, And sees the pattern so deftly wrought, As the loom moves sure and slow.

God surely planned the pattern; Each thread, the dark and fair, Is chosen by his master skill And passed in the web in care. He only knows its beauty, And guides the shuttles which hold The threads so unattractive, As well as the threads of gold. Not till each loom is silent, And the shuttles cease to fly, Shall God reveal the pattern And explain the reason why.

The dark threads were as needful In the weavers skillful hand, As the threads of gold and silver, For the pattern which He planned.

ANONYMOUS

DON says: This a somewhat dark presentation of what God is, but He is! Our lives are of a pattern, and as we look back we see the various threads, gold, silver and dark. We hope that the gold and silver will predominate, and we have given a good pattern to our lives.