The Basket Weaver

The old lonely basket weaver Keep weaving in a moody silence Great soul always suffers silence One eyed after an accident Do a living by weaving baskets Children are awed into silence too Weaving baskets The bamboo pieces Criss crossing No carelessness or else fingers hurt Only hard work, pains, tiredness and sorrows Being criss crossed tight and firm No one can help and disturb Silence speaks the loudest voice No whispers I hope God will help him In his solemn silent world