Caught up in the threads

The basket filled with spools of thread,
shows nothing but an unkept disarray.
Where the cats have lost their interest,
the sewing box is catching dust instead,
and the knitting needles lost their purpose.

In the never-ending threads and knots,
my mind is losing track and wanders off,
to thick wooded forests and mazes,
until I find my way back unnoticed,
and I continue my search through the mess.

Will the end ever be in sight, I ask myself?
Or is the ending only the beginning,
and the beginning the chaos of something new.
Where the chaos is a never-ending circle,
and the circle the centre of the same basket?

Philosophical unstoppable roads.
I wonder when the traffic signs,
will finally show me the way.
Maybe I should seek my glasses first,
in the basket with divine notes.

But  if I had listened or noticed Your hands,
I would know that confused minds,
never solve the problems they began.
But with my heart caught up in the threads,
I missed the clean state of my basket.
And now I can start all over again!