Click, clack; click, clack;
The shuttle shoots from wealth to lack.
Warp, weft; right, left;
Calm, stressed; cursed, blessed.
As the weaver works the loom,
So, the cloth will grow and bloom.
Life is woven into braids,
Coming in a range of shades.
One day up, the next day down,
Smiles transforming to a frown.
Warp, weft; worst, best;
Stern today, but soon I jest.
One day lively, next in bed,
Body tired, a sleepy head.
Today’s a problem, hit a wall,
Tomorrow’s wall is not so tall.
Warp, weft; quit, quest;
All my order turns to mess.
Yesterday, ideas flowed,
Today, that flow is overload.
No matter how we warp and weft,
The cloth we weave is finely blessed.
Without that click-clack moving shuttle
We wouldn’t make a cloth so subtle.
And as we let our days unfold,
So, we weave a cloth of gold.
I was inspired to make this poem, thanks to a visit to the National Welsh Wool Museum in Drefach Felindre, Carmarthenshire. You would not believe the noise that was going on whilst that machine was weaving. The parallels to life were leaping out at me, particularly the amount of fuss and noise I’ve made over the years at the warp and weft (mainly warp) of my own life.
At the end of the day, those ups and downs of life are all necessary to make the rich tapestry that is our life, our experience and our learning. I am learning to value, accept and even welcome the down days, the sad days, the bleugh days and the ones that feel like a waste of time, because they are not, they are adding contrast that make the vibrant colours of the other days stand out. They are often the days that I learn the most and that lead me to finally make the changes that my soul is urging.
There are no bad days for me anymore, only days of different moods and colours, all coming together and making the tapestry of my life all the richer.