The Family Tartan

The Weaving of a Family Tartan
Adapted by Michael Perry from The Weaving of the Tartan 1894





















I had a dream of the master’s hand weaving,
Weaving, weaving
I saw the master weaving,
A web of tartan fine.
“Sing high,” he said, “sing low,” he said,
and wrap well the long threads,
The bright threads, the strong threads;
Knit tightly well the cross threads,
To make the colors shine.”

Run in the red for the invisible red silk cord;
To connect those whose meetings are destined by the Lord.
Whose paths will cross,
like the threads in the cloth.
With each pass of the shuttle,
the threads tighten loved ones in a close huddle.
Timeless threads whose length expand
to tie those together firsthand.
A strong thread stretched over time, place or circumstance;
In a pattern known to the weaver and not left to chance.
Strong are the threads to withstand
the pulls of the world and life’s demands.

So weave threads of green, the laurel’s sheen;
for nature’s highlands and glen.
Green for growth, harmony, stability and endurance;
Tranquil Green for peace, protection and balance
Calming strong wool threads for emotional healing
to keep the family warm and ensure their well being.
So weave well the bright threads a gleaming,

I saw the master weaving,
A web of tartan fine.
“Sing high,” he said, “sing low,” he said,
The red threads, the green threads;
Wrap well the strong threads
“That bind their hearts to mine.”