The stretch of lives as we understand
That are pulled from chaos into strands
Then placed in care of three pairs of hands
Clotho gathers many strands to spin
Strands clean and pure without a sin
Into the threads where our lives begin
In the slips and slubs that’s sewn our way
Lachesis holds forth the role we play
Threads strong or weak are hers t0 say
Deigned to be neither our foe or friend
Whether worn smooth or with snags to mend
By Atropos’ shears we reach our end
Woven deep onto Life’s tapestry
Come all of the things that are to be
Under the eyes of this trinity
In this tapestry so tautly gripped
Where our twisting lives are woven, slipped
Thus our threads are spun, measured, and snipped
Today at Real Toads, with today being the third Sunday of the month, Hedgewitch challenges us to consider the idea of three. I took on the trinity we tend to refer to in the singular: Fate (The Fates).
Real Toads | Poetry To The Third Power
National Poetry Month – Day 17
In honor of Hedgewitch’s celebration of three, I break my alphabetical run through poetic forms to do something original, original to me anyway. I’m calling this the Monoterce.
The Monoterce is simply a mono-rhymed tercet (a three line stanza), of nine syllables per line, done in multiples of three. It has to have a minimum of three stanzas to qualify, any following stanzas must be in multiples of three (3, 6, 9, 12… ).
Fate, I usually think of it as singular, but there is spinning, snipping and weaving to get done if we are ever to see the whole tapestry. Beauitul
Gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous…!! 😀
Oh those fates sounds like the norns .. Each of us a thread.
Your poem makes me feel as if we could all grave the strands of our lives and weave our own fates… If this were true, I wonder what would make us snip…
Yummy form, by the way.
Or so we are told. 🙂