Strings and Such...

All around me
Life’s threads are spinning,
The Master Weaver’s guiding
The pattern I cannot see.
Though I see many, gorgeous, threads
And for a time we may cross
They have all found their place
With other threads
In this tapestry of life.

They come and go
Some short and long
And all do shape my strand,
But where’s the one, the special one
that joins mine hand in hand.

The Master Weaver’s pattern
is perfect, flawless, complete.
Though for now a single twisted string
I yearn for a knotty yarn,
He says to me; looks at me;
“A frayed knot”