by Hilary Horn

By Ana Lisa de Jong —


When we unravel
we can find in the strangest way,
we are taking shape.

A shape we couldn’t see
when wound up tight in a ball,
all contained.

But if we unravel,
pull a thread and watch it unfurl,
dangerously loose,

we might find
it falls as its meant.
A picture to speak a thousand words.

A picture that reveals
in our unravelled form,
we’re more beautiful than we thought.

Are more valuable than we had guessed,
or had forgotten we were
before life caused us to hoard our treasure.

Yes, when we unravel
it’s as though a muscle memory comes back
to remind us of our strength.

We’re to never fear the unfurling,
or the pain that begs
a question,

to find an answer in
the twirling,
dancing thread.

The shape it makes when it lands
we recognise
as an old friend returned.

‘Could it be’, we hear ourselves ask,
‘that we have always been
what we imagined?’

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