I want to write a poem,
But all I can do is play –
I play with words,
I play with music;
I play with threads.

And it feels good.
I warp;
I weave.
I un-weave.
I’ve even un-warped a time or two.

But I always warp again,
Setting up a new frame of reference.
And I weave some more,
Entwining thread after thread…
Over…
Under…
Over…
Under…

Weaving a life,
A picture,
A song.

Is it threads?
Or is it words?
Or is it notes?

It doesn’t matter.
It’s all rhythm,
All energy,
All thought,
All creativity,
Vibrating and singing through me.

I want to write a poem.
But I can’t.
All I can do is weave one.
And so I do.

Also enjoy the first poem published here, Lifeweaving,
and the humorous Weaver’s Prayer.