Hanging by a thread
Fraying and fraying
I ask myself:
What was it made of?

Onward and onward it spirals
Such a lone thing
But look, it joins with others
There twists this thread

Built by obstinacy
Next hangs a friend

A laughing thread
A rivaling string

Can be such a bother
A trunk sacrifices much
To hold my thread
The echoes of warnings, of such irritating scolding
Are bound together by loving hair brushes,
Soothing the burn any fraying thread could give

What a coming!
Such conjunction!
The ropes of a tree trunk
Could not look more solid

Such good,
Such green
As an unknown Sun shines on the pinkening buds
And I, myself, do bud