Weave words together into a blanket of warmth and stars for children to snuggle under, painting the galaxy above them, finding their place in the world, soft in the dark
They had learned to weave from birth, it seemed. She watched the weavers at their looms, their sleeping babies curled up in the slings on the mothers’ backs, lulled to sleep by he thudding of the beater on the finished cloth.
Weave words together into a blanket of warmth and stars for children to snuggle under, painting the galaxy above them, finding their place in the world, soft in the dark
They had learned to weave from birth, it seemed. She watched the weavers at their looms, their sleeping babies curled up in the slings on the mothers’ backs, lulled to sleep by he thudding of the beater on the finished cloth.