Weaving
Threads of knowing and unknowing -
Colours overlaid and bound in patterned imagining.
We carry the stories of stitches and mendings,
Sheltering communities under cloths of protection.
How many patches and patterns does it take to tell the story?
How many sewing circles does it take to hear good news?
How many needles must prod and point to find the way, the truth, the life?
And so, we learn to sew.
Our garments of praise adorn mortal folk,
who dare to discover radical stories.
The harshest of silks and the finest of heshens -
confusion reigns at the teacheress.
How can a seamstress presume to instruct spirit?
How can a woman lead within a home?
How can Aquila suffer to be guided?
And so, we look hard at those who sew.
You take a bolt of green,
Tinted by the grasses.
You add a strip of orange,
Stained with spice or root.
How can we see beyond the vision of our background?
How can we bring appreciation to the blend?
How can we see the rainbow if we think in black and white?
And so, we wear the fabric sewn together.
What special coat you wear, O friend Aquila!
Who made that fashion piece that turns the eye?
Your wealth of garments witness to your value…
Found in faith companion by your side.
Priscilla – first of professors and traders –
You will be honoured … in eternity…
…
Acts 18:2-3
(Priscilla was, with her husband, Aquila, a tent-maker. As such, she would have been skilled at sewing. One imagines her making her beloved his garment.)
(C) 2017, A.Koh-Butler
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