Gone Fishing

I sat in the dirt and pulled at the line--
of course it would be knotted.
So instead of trolling the water at sunset I was poking
and prodding at chaos. But I refused to cut it off,
convinced that it was a sign or
an allegory of my life.
"You must be patient and understand how it all works,"
a voice whispered to me.
"Don't kid yourself, it's all stupid,"
my gut said.
A veritable waste and was it really worth my life
to untangle the mess of my thoughts
and dreams?
If the universe had a plan,
the knot surely illustrated the road
but it was beyond me--the way it weaved in and out.
Yet there must have been a solution, there always is
if you look hard enough. It is only fair.
It was too much for my frazzled reason
so in barbed irritation I cut the knot from the reel
and tied the lure again.
When I finished I looked to the horizon
but the sun had abandoned me,
there was no light by which to fish
and I had missed the lesson.

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