The Strand… a poem

grayscale photo of rope on log
Photo by b. on


I may be a lowly strand,

But I am not alone.

For as you see,

Through twists and turns,

My strength is not my own.

The years I spent in adolescence

Did my body good.

The mind and heart and the man within

Learned lessons — as he should.

You see, as age progressed in me

The wiser I became.

The twists and turns upon my life

Are God’s lessons in life’s game.

Now, I look around me

And I see a massive rope.

Were I a strand alone in this

My life would have no hope.

I’m surrounded by many others,

I call family and friends.

Occasionally, there’s a knot here and there,

But more strength for me in the end.

So, look around and do assess

The rope that you’ve become.

For though you are a lowly strand

There is strength within your sum.

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