She sat at her loom guiding one strand at a time to form the pattern she had designed bursting of color and bold splashes to create a worthy work of art, like pulling a friend back into the fold when she strayed like a thread slipping out and getting lost, dropped to the floor over a careless comment made.
Extending her hand for the thread that slipped its knot, just as reaching for her friend’s hand, turning her face toward the light knowing it would open her heart to understand, have compassion and allow love back into her life the same as the fabric accepted the new strands to complete its desirable end arrangement.
Thoughts ran through her mind as her hands automatically, but carefully, braided her way as she navigated through sharp turns and detours in life to lessen the betrayals that came unexpectedly.
Also a weaver of words, combined with the thinking process that would sustain her strength as the diversity of people filled her life constructing a strong fabric she could rely on to smooth the bumps in the road no matter how disastrous.
A good life was like this tapestry full of brilliant complexities, a stain or two in odd places uncovering the few knots that became entangled along the way, too minor to bother trying to correct what is better to just note and keep on going.
Yes, the full fabric unabridged while giving the weaver hours of joy to create would bring a lifetime of pleasure to any seeking to absorb the trials, challenges, imperfections, and genius of it all including the life it represented, fulfilled with the same energy and skill the novice brought to the canvas.