Life, a deck of cards,

how will you play them?

Life, three balls of yarn,

how will you weave them?

Do you leave the strings

to the Fates 

thrice three?

to passively say,

“do what thou wilt 

unto me,”

or are you an anomaly,

fate’s threads 

made serpentine–

it delights the sisters

when the strings 

give a push,

and wrangle free —

don’t be easily woven.

sentience 

is sovereignty.