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 with 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 an array
Of bright colored pinks and blue.
He knew there would be patches of gray
When He gave the pattern to you.
Fern Estes
