What would I change of myself
if destiny spun
and were woven by my hand

Tomorrow’s truths would untangle
across my calloused fingers
Wyrd journeys knotted into fate

If each dream
were true from my tongue
What would I do

If each knowing fable
were unchangeable
and yet wrought from my form

Unable to change
the potential for shame
growing with the warp

Embarrassed by each step
down the road
led to by the weft

Would I learn
what we each find
down the broken trail of faith

Knowing what will come
I ask if the web is woven
darker for this exposure

And if love be seen broken
would I could I fight
for it to be held on

Or would I knot up
inside and out
on the loom