The Golden Thread

When we come to the close of a busy day

And all our colors seem drab and gray,

The Master Weaver looks down with a smile

And says, "You will learn it after a while."

He holds the shuttle in his nail-scarred

                        hand

As he says, "Someday you will understand

Why your threads are drab and others gay

In the tapestry you  are trying to weave today."

Remember the thread to the Master's throne

Is the golden thread, "Thy will be done;"

No tapestry woven will be complete

And land one's soul to the Master's feet,

Lest approved by the Master Weaver's smile,

As he says, "Well done, come home, my child."

So remember the thread to the Master's throne

Is the golden thread, "Thy will be done'"

                                                   V.C.