This poem was written October, 2006, about 2 months before I moved to Virginia. I was probably very depressed at the time, but trying hard to find sense in it all.
Lachesis is one of the three Fates; the one who measures out the thread of life.
An elderly aunt works a centerpiece from
two colours intertwined, one bland and blue,
One sparkling red. Silent students notice the
Taut, strong measure of thread on thread
That creates a new kind of fabric.
Sometimes I am blue and you sparkle scarlet,
Others, I’m the vibrant, buoyant hue while
You languish in teal. But the final piece
Is balanced, is perfect, not ending until
Her final picot has been crisply turned.
That is us. Knit together by someone who
Cares immensely for us two, bound somehow
To an unseen lifeline, one to the other,
Both unable to function alone. Time crawls:
Each month a change in pattern, in life.
Can’t you see its creator, and her care,
As we move from treble to chain? At times it seems
The steel hook is amiss–crossed-cables,
But the Creator moves deftly, evenly,
Never befuddled or dropping a stitch.
These things last forever. Pieces stay
For scores: sixty, century. A work unbroken,
Lying on display for folks to marvel and
Shudder silently at the blessed craft
Of creator, needle, and fragile thread made strong.