Poem February 23, 1987 Issue

Thought for raiment

Sally Seagull Johnstone

These children weave
through the warp of my prayer
skeins of what they really are
shuttling through my heart
from tree house to closet
from faucet to swings
from attic to cellar
my loom all day long sings
Immanuel
Immanuel
Immanuel—not demanding
I unthread
this handiwork of home
to tabernacle with God—
but letting all I do
for His little ones
enlarge the borders of love
seamlessly.