We can look at our life like a ball of thread.
The start of the of thread marks our birth,
And the end of the thread is hidden,
Wound by several milestones
That will lead us to our death.
If we unravel this ball of thread,
we begin to believe that our life span is infinite
We take steps that end up in loops, then knots
Some loose, some tight
That ignite us or confuse us,
To follow on or put us to halt.
Nevertheless that thread is still running
Until we bring out a pair of scissors
To cut off ties and let go of the knots
To start clean again.
To realise that we have shorten our life span.
We could expand the thread,
Tie the knot with another ball of thread
To draw more possibilities
To ‘Happily Ever After’ or just ‘The End’
Trapped by more knots, more loops, split ends
And a feeling of being worn out.
Be it good or bad,
the extended thread will always have an official end.
But let’s not find the end just yet,
Because we will loose the thread we have
The narrative to our end
Because whatever thread you bind to will never be a ‘bad end’;
It may form a spider web, that’s sticky and troublesome at the time,
but you may only see it’s use by the number of flies
you thought you could never trap.
Yes, the path of the thread is sometimes intangible,
That lead us down routes that we never thought of
Weaving us into jumpers, scarves, and bags
that have the magic to attract, fulfil and make us feel worthy of the many pleasures in life.
Yes, the many hands that sew you through different loops is messy, tense and abstract,
But it is always a work of art!
All you need is the right needle!
