The Village Woman's Loom

“Hektha Qhumi” -- The Village Woman’s Loom


You wait for dawn spinning possibilities with patience.
As the first rays burst filtering through fluttering leaves,
your heart leaps hurrying to harvest the sun's radiance.
You set the threads in tension and hum as the loom weaves.

Your footrest firm, your head bent in deep concentration,
your eyes move in unison with the shuttle as it travels--
like shooting stars at night darting across the blackness--
carrying the weft of colour through the shed of emptiness.

The polished sword of wood your stable hands manoeuvre
as it skillfully beats the yarn, creating never destroying
designs that outlast lifetimes, like fascinating fables of yore.
Industry and love braided in your loom unwavering.

As your waist stay strapped with leather and determination,
thousand threads of black and red interlace with magenta stripes.
You imagine the colours of your paddy field, full and ripe.
Dots of yellow you embroider like hundred tiny suns in motion.

Scenes of past you re-create with instruments of hope, you yarn
beaming as every piece comes alive, fatigue long forgotten.
It might buy your children beautiful dreams, you yearn.
Dreamer woman worker, oh! Your magic loom of wood and cotton!