Threads

redyarn

I am a ball of yarn

So tangled upon dismay

Yet so prideful in it’s shaping

 

I role like no other I know

And that’s my greatest accomplishment yet

Yes, I may just be a ball of yarn

But it is true, I have thousands of stories:

 

One time, at Yarn camp

Me and another ball of yarn

Whom had the longest threads of yarn down her back

Happened to sew the same patterns

We were best friends who weaved the greatest art

But we were too scared to do anything more

Our threads had not been discovered yet

 

A year later, we were reunited

It was another truly glorious summer

The sun stayed bright

The bees never stung

The horses we rode went faster than ever

Despite the change that comes with a golden age

Our threads were never able to connect

Still we were scared but only of ourselves

 

At the two year anniversary of our weaveship

Summer began and we were somehow changed

The other ball of yarn was much more mature and beautiful than ever

With threads that were unforgiving and steadfast to frontiers

There was no need to jink around our insecurities

We knew it was time

 

Threads sprung open, the truth was out

This game of steganography was done

Finally, we were free to explore

And truly our rolling selves went on adventures in weeks

That would take explorers months to conclude

We were unstoppable

Except the force of time had other plans…

 

With conclusion to that momentous summer

It was time to go

But she couldn’t just go!

You see, our adventure wasn’t just to break the bond

That concealed our threads

It was to knit together something that had never been made before

 

Yet sadly, this was not the case

Time had a different plan

And even though it just couldn’t be

Will rolled us to opposite directions

 

 

Now we look back, even to this day

And when we do, we see that one thread still remains

I could choose to roll in place and retract that one thread to its rightful place

Within the very depths of the core that makes me one

The very place that could use that thread in order to be rational, intelligent,

And powerful all the same

But why do that when you could share such power with someone else?

 

So my thread still remains

All the way in the depths of Yarn camp

Where the summers stay glorious

With the sun so bright

And the innocuous bees so happy,

The horses so fast

My thread is for her

All she would have to do is pull

And then, just then…

 

 

 

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