who trims all trees,
fits all oceans in their beaches,
who weaves each blade of grass,
lay down your busy hands
and look kindly at me.
Smiling, unroll your fragile thread,
a gust of ocean air,
and enwrap me in its length;
draw a golden needle
shaped of warm sunlight
and weave me in a cocoon of soft serenity;
bind my motion,
teaching me your many lessons of peace;
holding me in silent fascination of your living tapestry
show me my own fabric
and the stitches we hold common.
Unfold them with voices talking
your silken chamber and free me
to knit my own cloth,
garment of your inspiration and design,
that all men and women may wear it
and become it
rejoicing in the beauty and skill
of your workmanship.