An enchantress, that you are- beautiful,
Bestowed with skills that is unrivaled,
An amalgamation of god’s bountiful,
Spellbound are the eyes for your skills unparalleled.
In frills hangs your silken raven hair,
A tuft tucked behind your shapely ear,
Rests are flying delicately on the flow of the air,
As you come walking, the yarns seem they can hear.
The wooden loom is incomplete without you,
The silk threads go around in colourful triangle,
They spread evenly in the mirage of hue,
Resembling like a rainbow from every possible angle.
So keen and fixated are your gaze,
So nimbly your graceful hands work,
Pulling strains of threads, fingers move in maze,
Dhak..Dhak the shinning beater in rhythm works.
Spectacle it is, the half woven loom revealed,
Of intricate patterns and awe inspiring designs,
And artistically you weave on with patience not trivial,
Thread by thread you will entwine them but not resign.
Occasionally, you adjust the shifting back strap,
That snugs your derriere and holds the loom tight,
Listening to melody you make loops and knots on the angled drape,
Tucking back those hairs interfering with her sight.
The patterns are beautiful even for a naïve eyes,
But special they are and hold meanings so clear,
They are the motifs of trees and delicate butterflies,
And woven patiently for days and months so dear.
One day a beautiful maiden will wear this masterpiece,
On the anointed day where thousands gather,
To watch dances and glittering spectacle of fashionable pieces
But none will be as beautiful as this art put together.
Here I am today; I watch the birth of silken butterflies,
And trees in fruition along with symbolic knot of love,
By the fingers that seem to have eyes of their own to rely,
Of a weaver more beautiful than the weave, an enchantress everyone loves.
December 15, 2015