threads

threads of silver and threads of gold.

the golden thread asked the silver thread

how can i be so wise?

how can i be so powerful,

and command a world of ties.

the silver thread merely hummed in reply,

as it knit itself into a blanket.

the silver thread was nearing the end of her life

and she wanted to make herself last.

her memory and voice was crumbling,

she no longer had what she used to.

the golden thread, fresh as can be,

thought the silver thread was trying to make her angry.

so she went out, determined to be wise.

determined to be powerful,

and knit a world of lies.

the silver thread finished her work,

and her blank gray eyes lost their luster.

the silver thread was gone from this world,

and the golden thread was just beginning her tirade.

the golden thread found

that people thought her beautiful,

suddenly, her golden shine

was worth a fortune.

so the golden thread sold her precious locks,

traded them for money and power,

but one she had sold them all,

she found no one wanted her any longer.

so once again, she ran to the silver thread

only to find the silver thread was gone,

replaced by a knit canvas.

so the golden thread lay her fingers across,

and wished for it all to be undone.

she had no use for money,

her beauty was gone, and with it, her fame.

she set out to be wise and powerful,

yet she remained foolish and weak.

she only wished she could bring silver back.

but she knew such a think was impossible.

so, as gold neared the end of her life,

she took her last golden thread.

she could no longer speak,

nor quite remember,

but she knew that she had to do one last thing.

she weaved her last golden thread

into the silver canvas.

and so silver and gold,

once locked in a battle of misunderstanding,

were now back together again;

mother and daughter.