The Pattern

Silhouettes of trees                                                                                                                                    on tie-dyed sunsets                                                                                                                            always draw me in.

Not that sunsets alone lack allure.                                                                                                            I ponder every one.                                                                                                                                 But there’s something about the limbs, the lines…

I think that’s the way life is;                                                                                                                   the way God is.

The pattern of limbs is a signature,                                                                                                       life traced out upon life,                                                                                                           proceeding from the Source                                                                                                                   and reaching back again.                                                                                                                 Vessels flowing to and from the heart;                                                                                          springs of Earth to oceans                                                                                                                    ever ebbing toward the shore. 

Love flows out in lines like that,                                                                                                     always branching, always seeking;                                                                                                         to the very last cell,                                                                                                                                  the distal-most part,                                                                                                                                the smallest leaf.

Its limb-like coursing                                                                                                                               lets no Love be lost.

One channel, branching to infinity,                                                                                                  leaves no empty space.

From there, it carries something back                                                                                                    in sap and blood and water;                                                                                                         something of itself and more.

Radiance of the sun transformed,                                                                                                      gases of the air exchanged,                                                                                                            elements of the earth transported;                                                                                                 always creating, making life new.

It comes and flows,                                                                                                                          coating conduits in itself                                                                                                                       and in the whole stuff of living;                                                                                                  impurities dissolved in perfect melding.

Spirits soar like this, I feel;                                                                                                                      up through roots and rings,                                                                                                             beneath bark and colored leaves,                                                                                                springing out in shoots of green.

At the next sunsets’ viewing –                                                                                                               find the pattern of trees,                                                                                                                      trace the trail of life,                                                                                                                                sign the signature of Love.

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