Intertwining cords of life,

Weaving dodging, nothing new,

But wait, what’s this? Something else?

Another pattern coming,

Looks like mine, it’s so alike,

In shape and form, but something’s new,

An end askew, could this be,

A mistake or a new trick?

Coming closer, what to do?

Push the end in or step back?

I want to, but I cannot,

Looking on in a dumb state,

As more ends release themselves,

They fly towards my knot work heart,

Hook themselves into my loops,

Then they shoot back to their source,

Drawing me closer to it,

The ends form figures unknown,

Creating a new knot,

No hands maneuver them,

No fingers grasp these ends,

They seem to work on their own,

No master and no reason,

What is this magic forming?

The new knot grows larger,

No stopping these rogue strings,

As the other piece pulls near,

I watch the new knot as it forms,

Mystified by its beauty,

By it’s unpredictability,

Every which way they dart,

In and out, out and in,

So deftly it forms, so natural,

Breaking all barriers,

Destroying any plans,

That I may have been keeping,

They form all their own plans,

Which I hadn’t counted on,

But which are bound to occur….