Last Knot of Bamboo

The bamboo strips are flexible,

the silk flowers are bright

I weave them into baskets,

a practice of the light

My grandmother taught me in the camp,

a long and sorry time

And I have weaved in freedom since,

a story and a rhyme.

I'm the flower basket weaver's last knot,

I tie it tight and true

The bamboo and the silk will hold,

the colors rich and new

I'll give it to my granddaughter,

the last one of my line

And she will weave the stories of our family and our time.

The camps were hard,

the fences high, the dust was thick and gray

But my grandmother would weave and sing to help us through the

day

She said "The art will keep you free,

the baskets hold the soul"

And I have weaved for all my years,

to make my spirit whole.

I place the final flower in the weave,

I tie the final knot

I see my grandmother's face in every single spot

My granddaughter takes it in her hands,

she promises to learn

And I know the weaving will go on,

at every single turn.

I'm the flower basket weaver's last knot,

I tie it tight and true

The bamboo and the silk will hold,

the colors rich and new

I'll give it to my granddaughter,

the last one of my line And she will weave the stories

of our family and our time.

Our family and our time.