The Pattern

Photo: (c) Jamie K. Reaser

There’s a pattern to things that emerges

when we stop forcing the elements

into form.

It’s the invisible cobble stones

that make up the

circuitous path that lead us

Home.

It’s the tempo of the voice that,  

one quiet night,

we recognize as our own

perfectly timed

request

to come in.

It’s the intersecting lines in the palm

of the hand

that we finally realize

has been leading us where we

never dared

imagine

we could go.

This is what patience means

to me:

Letting life sculpt us

into what Nature

intends.

Like newly dropped

seeds in a some-day

meadow.

Like the clouds

that will become

a pair of dancing

bears.

Like the rain drops

puddling until we

can’t resist four-footed

splashing,

and laughing

and hugging.

Let’s invite the day to come,

And trust that the night

will follow.

~ Jamie K. Reaser, Author

Published in "Coming Home: Learning to Actively Love this World" 

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