Thanks for following my thread so far.
Yes, thread – whether natural, synthetic, metallic or mythical – does seem to hold the world together.
Of course, it has metaphorical strength as well.
Meanwhile in the tapestry, the many characters continue on
their way (for the most part) from left to right – some weighed down, others blown
by a favourable wind; some riding on horse-back, others wading bare legged
through the surf; some handing round kebabs, others tending the dead; some
ripping chain mail off corpses – all following their own thread, depicted by
thread…
Serious as the subject matter is, as I study the tapestry
I find myself smiling, amused at the antics..
And so my poem begins light-heartedly.
But as the increasing gory death scenes impact and my own awareness of
what was to come after the conquest looms, the laughter fades.
No one knows why the tapestry ends so abruptly,
apparently in mid story; it is as if Atropus’ shears which cut the thread of
life for each of us, simply cut through all those threads at once, along with the
linen of the tapestry itself.
Which is how my poem ends.
It’s thread that holds the world together –
books are bound so you can read
and buttons fixed to keep you clad.
Thread is wise – for once it’s lost
you will not understand.
And thread is good at being strong –
a sword may dangle from a thread.
Threads combined find power in unity –
the strength of thread’s no less than destiny.
So treasure the thread which spun the wheel
and wove the carpet on which you tread.
And if we were bereft of it?
Every needle needs a thread –
no textiles, ropes or reels – and what would stop
the rents in socks from joining up
to make one huge black hole?
Elegant thread, O grace of lace,
creator of image, who sutures wounds
yet often leaves no trace –
pray keep me safe, and us all joined.
My respect you have, for at the last,
when you are cut, my story ends.
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