The Weaving~

The river flowed with half pint jars filled with thoughts of all.

The wearer sat and made her plaid to weave the stories told.

The story of all the lives that make up the whole.

The tears, the triumphs, laughter, all, made that plaid grow stronger.

The magician kept weaving in more tales of broken homes, late night fires, of babies wanting more.

The sun finally broke the sky, the weaving was almost done.

Now the time, when daylight comes, to weave in the most important part of all.

The part of hope, dreams added to the beginning of each day. Giving a person warmth on a cold November day.

This weaving takes the most care, while the light begins to come. The shadows want to infest the weaving done.

To counter this, the song can be heard of hope, dreams, and tiny children's laughter, to scare away the cold and damp trying to invade.

The weaver finally done,

takes the newly woven plaid,

offering it to the Son.

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This is my Day 134: Freewrite, Prompt: plaid

Thank you @mariannewest for always starting this and your time every day.

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Much Love,
Snook

Image Source

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For those that think they are not a writer here is what can be done in 5 minutes if you want to learn bad enough to find your inner thoughts.

My original writing of today.

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He is a man that believes we all should be just who we are.
He goes out of his way to support others that stay true to themselves.
That kind of man I will stand beside any day of the week.

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