Knitting Clouds

Is the time I spend writing going to mend the distance between us?
Like weaving dreams by sewing the strands of my time,
where with my thoughts I loosen the seams and knots,
then intertwine the impossible with probability.
Thus I purl as I contemplate that my mind often wanders as endlessly as the sky,
most incorrigibly daydreaming of you as I gather the yarn of my thoughts
looking to find this fool solution to the convoluted convolution
of the what’s and the wares of weaving the why.
Yet hopeless it seems to thread the needle of my dreams
I would only be the fool bigger of knot if not to try