A ball of wool
Sitting atop a hill
What must it do..?
Try to float up into the sky?
Twist itself into something useful
Like a scarf?
Or look below and enjoy the view?
A ball of wool
Am I
Sitting atop a hill
And I can sense a storm
A rumbling before any sound
For it’s been very very still
And there it starts
Subtly, imperceptibly
Perhaps it was a lazy afternoon
Too warm to be wool
So I stretch myself out a little
And lo, there it unspools
Gentle roll, down from the edge
What a thrill to untie
The ball of wool
Is unraveling
A ball of wool
Am I
It starts slow
Gentle bops and hops
The hill offers a friendly incline
It even offers obstacles n stops
To break the momentum
But I ever-so politely decline
And here it goes full swing
Like lightening down the hill
And there are echoes of laughter
Like when drenched in sudden rain,
Like a sudden spike or relief in pain
Like a roller-coaster
The ultimate adventure sport
Giving up control
I’m rolling…falling..lolling
A bolling wall of rool
And there isn’t much to do
Than to let it go rolling
My friends at the hilltop
Trying to pull the strand back up
Ironically just aid more rapid unspooling
Let it roll
I’m rolling
A wolling rall of bool
All I can do along the way
Is to try and hold on
To a tree, to a rock
Anything still and strong
And as I do
I wrap myself around several things
And get into knots
And round-about messes
A mess of intermingled strands and strings
Just let that go
Let go
And roll
Onward and on
Just roll and loll
And go unspool
A wolling ball of rool
The more I roll
No more that I try
No more that I think I can
No more that I think
A ball of wool on the hilltop
Is what I am
The easier I go
The faster I go
Even if the faster is the unspooling
I pass over the thorns
And the pricks and the pins
They don’t stick- I just pass them over
So fast I am rolling
And what a path
And what a journey
What views
And what rough and tumble
What laughter
What sudden sharp pains
What stall and stumble
What scary shrieks
What disbelieving laughs
What knowing not a thing
What freedom to be nothing more
Than an unravelling piece of string
It rolls and lolls
And unspools
I let it- For what else can I?
Swooshing down the slope
On a spree
A rolling wall of bool am I
Featured Image: Personal. Nov 2016
