Poem February 23, 1987 ISSUE

Thought for raiment

Sally Seagull Johnstone

These children weavethrough the warp of my prayerskeins of what they really areshuttling through my heartfrom tree house to closetfrom faucet to swingsfrom attic to cellarmy loom all day long singsImmanuelImmanuelImmanuel—not demandingI unthreadthis handiwork of hometo tabernacle with God—but letting all I dofor His little onesenlarge the borders of loveseamlessly.

O God of the lilies,what linen is thisYou clothe us in—this garment,this house-coat,this holy thing!

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