One Lutheran's Thoughts

Live and grow, change, reform...well, this blog used to be my 'primary' space, but not any more. This is now the online 'home' of my poetic ramblings and musings. Sometimes there is a faith/theological hue, while others not so much. Check out the pictures. Remember - literacy is visual too!

Thursday, June 22, 2006

The Blanket

Peering out one eye, I glance, and spy a blanket gleaming bright, trimmed
in blue.
It is clear that this blanket is an original hand-made wonder;
But by whose hands was it crafted?
Investigating the meticulous patterns, it is truly evident that much time and
thought went into the construction.
Each shines with an intense love and caring.
The One who worked each stitch is truly an artist!
Scanning for a signature, I discover the immensity of the work, there
seems to be no starting point, no final stitch...
Truly amazing, and incomprehensible on the surface, the warmth of each
stitch, quite understood.
Scattered throughout the work, designs of color.
Though these designs seem random at quick glance; upon a longer
study, they fit into a scheme, much larger than one can understand.
Who is the Master behind this work?
I continue my search...
Although I do not know my final destination, I seem to have a plan.
I glance back on my path, it seems quite natural.
After a deeper look, I notice that my path is individual, yet it intertwines
with other travelers.
I am not travleing alone, but with many, many others.
I AM a part of this blanket, I am a part of the pattern!
Every line, every stitch adds excitement and beauty.
Different colors, textures, and thickness, each adding their own unique
characteristic, yet still one in the same!
The work would be a failure without each stitch, each color, each
Where is the Artist? Why is the Artist silent?
If I had created such a masterpiece, I would be screaming, "IT'S MINE!
But the Artist is silent...or is he?
Resting from my journey I sit back to contemplate this question.
In the midst of my thoughts, I hear a voice. I glance up, it is my
neighbor, saying a friendly hello.
Glancing at our paths, for a moment that seems like a whole day, another
voice. This time a stranger, asking a question. I offer an
As the stranger leaves, I notice her path is going in the same direction as
mine and my neighbors.
Reviewing my thoughts, and the recent events, I begin to feel that the
artist is NOT silent.
Quite the contrary; she is SCREAMING!
She is speaking to me through others, those I meet along my path, my pattern.
Maybe I just never paid attention before?
Turning back, I notice our paths, both singular and united, seem to be
saying something.
Though I could not figure it out, I suddenly get the feeling that I was
being called to go, to continue my journey...
Although I don't what the final stop entails, I am confident that this
Artist, whoever he is, understands, and is in control of the final
After all, she has created this entire work of art until now.
Only a grander piece will follow;
A piece that was carefully thought of, worked out, and finished by...

(c) Kimberly S. Conway - 6/95; rev. 7/11/95


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