The Line

Well little bugs have littler bugs
Up on their backs to bite'em
And littler bugs have still littler bugs
And so ad infinitum

From:  Their Ain't No Flies On Me

It's like you've been working for a week to unravel a knot and once you've got it you realize that the knot you've just finished is only part of a much bigger tangled mess.  You don't see the beginning, you don't see the end and you don't know where the heck you are along the line.

At some point you realize that as beautiful and intricate as the line is there are some parts that seem rotten and look just plain ugly.  And to top everything off it's impossible to just let the line be.  I mean, one can go on and live their normal life but eventually you notice the line and wonder where it goes and as you work on that next knot the blisters on your fingers get cut and as you bleed you let out a nasty curse.

Cursed is the man who works on a knot
and never sees the ends
who knows not what
or if or but
it only just depends.

Perhaps it's chance
or poetry
that's placed me by this line
there are endless possibilities
and so little time.

Then one day, totally out of the blue, a thought crosses your mind.  In that flash of inspiration you are able to see the twists and turns, the ins and outs of the knot structure and you can visualize how to place your fingers for maximum advantage.  You rush to the line and untangle the knot in seconds.  Exhilarated you quickly clear up every knot in sight, letting out a little whoop with each.

Later, reflecting on what has just happened, you stare long and hard at the line.  Now one would think your focus at this point should be on the line ahead but something is drawing you to the line before.  Grabbing the line you give the before part a little tug and as you grasp it starts moving and changing.  Nothing is as you remembered it.  And here you are.  For the first time in like forever you have finally seen how to manipulate the line yet at the same time it starts changing on you.  As you look at your nice callased free fingers you again blurt out a curse.

I am nothing but a man
lost on an island
an endless sea in every direction
I'll build my hut
and oil my beard
a chief by my own election.

Weeks later another thought wakes you up in the middle of the night.  You had a dream and in the dream you saw yourself actually walking on top of the line.  A knot came, you stepped over it.  The line rose up to form a giant gate, you passed right through it.  It started raining but your traction remained firm.  Eventually you saw a form a distance away walking on the line toward you.  For a split second you debate if you should stop and let the form meet up with you or if you should advance.  But then you let out your little knot whoop and start sprinting toward the form.  Losing sight of the line you fall helplessly and wake up.

Not able to go back to sleep you start crying.  It was so close if even just a dream but now everything is as it always was.  The line is ugly you think.  It has always been ugly.  Whomever or whatever made it is ugly.  I will not play with the line anymore.  But you find out that now the line will not let it be ignored.

During the day when you are busy on some project you hear the line snap.  You briefly peek at it while watching TV and at just that moment it changes color.  At night if inserts itself into every dream, sometimes not so nicely.  For the third time you curse.

Am I now lord of nothing
of nothing in control
not birth nor death
nor in between
the spirit and my soul

One day something very surprising happens.  Over the last few weeks your precious line has developed a lot of new knots. Knots that are different and which you have no idea how to undo.  You were just about to get grumpy about it but thought, oh what the heck, let's have some fun with this.  So you speak to the line and tell it that you are quite thankful for all the new knots.  "You win line.  You're the boss.  If you like being tied up it knots, well then that's just fine with me.  But if you want to get rid of them I'll do whatever you want". This time instead of cursing you sing out a blessing.

There is beauty in every fiber
purpose in every inch
wonders around the corner
to be found.

Joy is in the journey
strength with every step
rest when they lay me
in the ground.

And in your happiness you feel a tear streak down your face.  One tear leads to more and you can no longer stand.  You now feel ashamed and ask the line to forgive you. And as you do the line fills the room and the knots gently wrap around you and you can feel life coursing through the fibers.  And now you know.