A Needle In Time

A work so fine At stitch number ninety-nine But all its eye sees, is a chaotic array of thread Of the disorderly stitches, like a spider’s web Sadness engulfs the needle’s timid mind What’s the use of this endless grind? Is there a purpose to all this pain? Asked the needle, as it bore through the cloth’s frame No answers were found And it continued to mound Till the end of time It moved in line Time’s over Told a whisper Need to move on Realizations dawn As it lay dangling in fear For it knows that the end is near Death arrives Thread breaks Cloth flips Needle awakens! Curtain is raised And it’s life-work revealed In front of its one-eyed vision Lay its own marvelous creation All questions now erase As the needle fell into beauty’s warm embrace Joy, angst, love and fear All the emotions possible to bear Fill it’s trembling heart In appreciation of the master’s magnificent art It wasn’t at all in vain Now knows the needle, with no more disdain Time to start afresh, at a brand new spree As the needle, is now free!