by Fern Estes

Golden Poet of the Year Award 1987

Our life here on earth is much the same

As a beautiful quilt on display

The pattern is there, we are given the cloth

To form the blocks each day.

As children, we choose the reds and the golds,

The pinks, the blues and the greens.

We have never yet seen the drabness that comes

With the shattering gray of our dreams.

We form the blocks haphazardly

With no thought of hues or design.

It is only when it is half finished

Do we notice the passing of time.

It is then we can see the red and the gold

More beautiful patches of gray.

Just like the darkest nights of our lives

Are made bright by the breaking of day.

As the quilt stretches out in my twilight years

And I add a few stitches each day.

I can see the touch of the Master’s Hand

As I look at those patches of gray.

Life wasn’t meant to be a an array

Of bright colored pinks and blue.

He knew there would be patches of gray

When He gave the pattern to you.

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