Weaving Without Warping

Let’s take a moment

and pretend there’s zen in the motion of the weft,

that it’s not just string being turned into fabric.

An industrial process robbed of its history by machine and scythe and sword.

Is it my lot to peer into a history that isn’t my own?
I’m no arachne, but we have the same sin.

We are false heirs to the craft of the loom, a warped inheritor stealing silk from someone else.

Dyeing our work

in hubris and venom.