*Reflection*
The old sewing machine
With fingers finely attuned to the edges of a fabric
And some slithering gently as the cloth moves forward
The feet bowing to the tunes of the lever,
And the thread spinning somersault to the rhythm of the body
Aren’t these patterns on the cloth a reflection of a moving mind?
Sometimes linear, often frenzied…
Once it’s all laid out...
We attribute it with meaning …
Just like life…
Seeking closure in our motions!
