Weaver Girl

With a caress of your hands, the spinning jenny whirled a vibrant tune. “Weaver girl” I said, “let me see you weave us two.” You smiled a sincere, but concentrated smile. And your hands kept plying and your feet kept pumping, the threads kept flying, and I watched. A majestic pattern of yellows and blues grew. Amazed by the colors, and the hues, I watched. “Weaver girl” I said, “let me see your weaving.” Again you smiled that brief and concentrated smile. Leaving wonder to tickle my sighing. Still you kept weaving. Until finally those different hues, filled with yellows and blues, came together to paint a picture so clear and so perfect I couldn’t move. Then I realized it was just you.