The knot work of my life,

Hardly complete,

Yet yearning to be finished,

My heart longs to tie the ends,

But my fingers are tired,

They cannot go on,

None but my weary soul,

May give them strength,

But it wants not the end,

It wishes to keep going,

Keep weaving, keep moving,

It is wont to this life,

A slave to the strings,

A slave to the ties,

It must go on,

It must weave more intricately,

It has a need to improve,

Over, under, over, under,

My hands weave on and on,

Strengthened by my soul,

Kept going by my spirit,

On and on they weave, they dodge,

Conflicting strings are cut,

Confused ties are doubled back,

There is no end to this folly,

No way for it to conclude,

At least not now,

My soul urges on,

And my fingers set off,

I only must ask,

How far will I weave,

Before my soul sees,

That the hands have erred…?