“The Unseen Thread”


Welcome back. Following my last post, I want to take you further into the world of ‘The Weaver.’ For me, this term is a gentle way to talk about the Creator of all things, linking the beauty of nature and our Irish heritage with a higher power. In other words that higher power is God, The creator of all things.

While I write from my own Faith. And also my love for this land, I hope to guide you, not instruct you. As an Irishman who loves to read and learn of the history of the Celtic, People. Their love and respect for the land has been widely known and is visable within their own beliefs. My goal is for you to look at the world, find your own meaning, and see where the threads of life lead you. These threads lead me in an amazing way to stunning places.

I never believed in telling people what they should see or believe, But rather I prefer to guide and show them where they could see to find for themselves. The same goes in terms of today’s Poem. Please enjoy this journey.


Wooden weaving loom with textile on it near window with yarn basket
A traditional wooden loom stands near a window with sunlight streaming in and colorful yarn nearby

This is the best possible image for this Poem. Which works for this Poem and for this topic. All thanks go to AI that provides an image that works for this task. Thus credit goes to AI for the image.



“The Unseen Thread”




The weaver stands with watchful eye,
Where tapestry and life lore lie.
A quiet soul, a yielding hand,
He shapes what few can understand.



The wooden frame stands firm and true,
Awaiting work it soon shall do,
Till guided hands begin to thread
The paths where deeper truths are led.



The beam holds fast, the threads are tense,
A sacred hush, a deep suspense.
A rhythm moves through hand and heart,
As One unseen sustains each part.



Hours pass as shadows slowly flow,
While hidden grace begins to grow.
No rush, no haste, no need to run,
Each line revealed when time is done.



Weaving colours, soft and bright,
By quiet gift and gentle light.
Each strand is placed with love and care,
No thread is lost or woven bare.



Soon the loom is silent, still,
It rests beneath a higher will.
He looks upon what has been spun,
And trusts the work to what’s begun.





Copyright © 2026 Pat Fitzgerald
All Rights Reserved


Thank you for coming with me on my little journey, that is composing or writing poetry. Life is a journey we all walk on. My journey in creating poetry is a journey of its own. Which I still learn much on as I write.

At times I experiment on techniques or ways to improve my poetry. Getting feedback is always most welcome for efforts like these.

When I write poetry, some readers will be offended with something within the poetry. I do not write to offend, But such are written for reasons I outline in the posts. Often I miss typos and mistakes when publishing each poem. I correct the moment I discover such mistakes.


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