All Things Woven and Worthy

after “All Things Bright and Beautiful,” by Cecil Frances Alexander All things woven and worthy, the threads both bright and frayed— the hands that lift the morning, the hush where light is laid. The garden still half-blooming, the storm that feeds the rain, the ache that shapes the kindness, the rest that follows strain. Not only larks and lilies, but dusk, and dust, and skin— for even humble makings hold holiness within.