Stitching the torn seams of my life
back together with delicate
silken strands of feigned
confidence, dropping
a stitch, maybe two,
here and there
I feel blind
to living
sometimes forgetting to step back
and take a glimpse at the whole
see the full tapestry of
my history, its colors
the depth and joys,
the triumphs all
woven in with
the pains
when your eyes are lowered, only
focused to the narrow tasks
beneath them, counting
each loop, each tuck
it's easy to miss the
beauty and results
of your living
labors of love
before it is finished, complete,
it is time to admire the work
itself, the pattern appearing
from rich experiences felt,
challenges met, and the
threads that bind us,
magnificent in
their unity