A weaver binds the grass and reeds
Beside the river bank, where it feeds
Safe from the thorns and shadows deep
She builds a home for youth to sleep.
With fiber pulled and seamless flow
They tear every single blade of green
A perfect twine begins to grow
By a code divine and sight unseen.
A tension grid is so tightly wound
The loops and loads are safely bound
Tightly aligned and true in every line
She shapes a home of grace divine.
Mating and courtship, the eggs are laid
In home of woven grass and secure shade
New life awakes in the warmth bliss
The fledglings take to flight in open skies.
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