Good morning…
When one odd word repeats itself, my keen awareness perks up. Yesterday, I reworked our post entitled Life Is A Patchwork. Then I climbed back in bed for my second sleep. When I woke again, I immediately read the following poem. Do you see what unusual word repeats itself?
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“Rain Light” by W.S. Merwin
All day the stars watch from long ago
my mother said I am going now
when you are alone you will be all right
whether or not you know you will know
look at the old house in the dawn rain
all the flowers are forms of water
the sun reminds them through a white cloud
touches the patchwork spread on the hill
the washed colors of the afterlife
that lived there long before you were born
see how they wake without a question
even though the whole world is burning
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Even though the whole world is burning, nature’s patchwork continues to spread wildly across the hill. Patchwork. There it is. A word I rarely see or read or consider. Patchwork has two meanings.
- something composed of miscellaneous or incongruous parts
- pieces of cloth of various colors and shapes sewn together to form a covering
Here are some synonyms. Jumble. Medley. Variety. Assortment. Collage. Hodgepodge. Mishmash.
A jumble of rain-washed colors, a medley of the afterlife, have lived as a variety long before you and I were born. This assortment of vibrant life, a collage of creativity, knows instinctively how to wake up, to wake up without a question. The sun reminds us through a white cloud of God’s hodgepodge, God’s mishmash, even though the whole world is burning, burning, burning.
“Life is a patchwork,” we learned in yesterday’s blog. “Alongside the bubbles and the smiles, there are losses and tears, cancer and fears, heartbreaks and doubts, struggles to survive and the pain of living without. Births and deaths are sewn in, year after year, waiting, waiting, waiting for God’s answers to become clear. With God in charge of our expanding connections, family and friends can grow sturdy and strong, up close together or apart for miles long.”
Today’s poem whispers of God’s patchwork spreading wildly across the hillside. Thriving before we were born and enduring into the afterlife, nature displays a marvelous, mishmash medley. Even though the whole world is burning, might we also be wired to wake up, to instinctively wake up to the hodgepodge of God?
Remember [thoughtfully] also your Creator in the days of your youth [for you are not your own, but His], before the evil days come or the years draw near when you will say [of physical pleasures], “I have no enjoyment and delight in them”; before the sun and the light, and the moon and the stars are darkened [by impaired vision], and the clouds [of depression] return after the rain [of tears] (Ecclesiastes 12:1-2, AMP).
Through the jumbled patchwork of daily life, let’s thoughtfully remember our Creator. Whether or not you know, you will know.
…Sue…
