Thread of Thoughts

This poem is based on a recent experience I had during home ec. class, where I got bored (I'm not much of a social person) and sewed some thread on the end of my jacket sleeve. I just find it calming

When I lay in the swaying grass

refraining from my social needs,

I wield a spool of thread

with the hued yellow

 of a Californian lemon,

and a small needle,

easily piercing and pulling

with the guide of my hands.

Along the end of my sleeve

I sew loops along the rim

feeling the assuring halcyon

accompanied with aging reveries.

A door forms within my sight

as an entrance to a path untrodden;

Wherever I thread, the door follows.

It is one that my kin seldom find,

just off of the land we tread.

It is insight,

wonder,

variance,

internal serenity,

and a serenade of the mavericks

who perform for the door of thread and fabric.

The spool I hold,

adorned with the aged reveries

and broken hopes,

is wound comfortingly with

my thread of thoughts;

along the stitches I sew,

I reveal the other side of my leaf.

Secretly, my spirit will be wilting.

Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

I relate to this thusly.
For years I and my folks seemed at an impasse...I tried to convince them I was doing fine where I was and what I was doing. They disagreed...the spirit did wilt...in later years we came to an agreement and things settled...the spirit compromised some...but only some...
My spool I hold now, creates threads of memories...and I would never throw this spool away...it is too precious...because it helps to sew where I am now into something I want to keep.
thanks for this write...poetry that stimulates me to identify....that floats my boat immensely.
I think when readers can read themselves into poetry, regardless of the inspiration for the write, certainly creates a back and forth between poet and reader.
j.

[Keagen Cole]

I'm greatly honored that the inner emotions put into
my work have helped you out. Especially since this is one of my first poems. 🥲

[Masked writer]

I absolutly adore this. BRAVO ARE THE WORS I GIVE THIS

[coagulatedfire]

I wish that I wrote this. Great job.

[Keagen Cole]

Thanks. :3

[1809 Black Plague Decem..]

Hellos, Dear, Keagen Cole,
I refrain so to say, that the poop was symbolic.
The lemons, the grass, away from social.
I like that. Then the rendering of a dreamless psychologist,
I love the whole involving poem. ---1809 Black Plague December

[Keagen Cole]

Thank you very much. It always made me happy when someone was inspired by my work. ;3

[1809 Black Plague December]

you are most welcome Dear. :D ----Maynard.