Tuesday, November 27, 2007

Patterns


I flipped through a collection of my poetry this morning, seeking something to post, and came across a poem I wrote in 1994. It touched a chord within and I decided to share.


This time of year as we hurriedly rush about preparing for the holidays, it is my hope that we'll reflect on what really matters. It isn't the gifts we buy or make for loved ones---though I'm sure these items are appreciated. In my opinion, it's the time we can spend with those we love, and the way we treat each other that means the most.


I propose that this year as we stand in line after line, as we drive through crowded roadways, and as we decorate, bake, and prepare for the holiday days ahead---we strive to be more patient with those around us, and watch for opportunities to serve. Sometimes a simple smile can go a long way toward easing someone's day. A pat on the back boosts declining morale, a random act of kindness can make a huge difference to a person who may be silently aching.


I know this has been said and shared countless times, but my challenge to everyone, myself included, is to remember the reason for the season. The best gift we can give to our Savior during this time of year is a change of heart. As we emulate His example, we can truly make this a Christmas to remember.


Patterns


Magic Eye pictures are 3-D, or so they say
If you look at one long enough, an image will give way.
Filled with excited anticipation, I too, began to stare
All around me were delighted, but I saw nothing there.

"Oh, look at it from over here," someone politely said
Obediently I followed to where this person led.
"Now squint and focus, concentrate, an image will appear,"
I gave myself a headache, then said, "There's nothing here!"

Disgruntled and disgusted, the crowd moved away from me
Convinced that I was hopeless because I could not see.
What they didn't know, and what I didn't say
Was a desire had been born to try to see things their way.

I longed to see that image, I wanted to understand
If someone would show and not explain, but simply take my hand.
One day my wish was granted, a friend sensed my strong desire
And vowed to help me find the image that would inspire.

She sat beside me, took my hand, guiding in a manner kind
Until the image was revealed at last---I was no longer blind!
Delighted, I embraced my friend, pondering a poem I'd heard one day
It mentioned we should walk beside, not merely show the way.

That wisdom is oft forgotten in a hurried world of stress,
Example can speak volumes; words alone digress.


Cheri J. Crane


1994

4 comments:

Anne Bradshaw said...

Great poem, Cheri. It says a lot more than first appears--and yes, I too have difficulty seeing those amazing images.

Thanks for your encouragement on my blog today. Have to laugh at book signings as we wonder why we do them :-)

Cheri J. Crane said...

Hi Anne,

Glad you liked the poem. I remember when I wrote that one, I was aiming for something funny, but it turned out a bit differently than I had first intended. C'est ma vie. (Such is my life) ;)

As for the booksigning adventures, I guess they go along with being a writer. Character building moments. =) Good luck this weekend.

Candace E. Salima said...

Oh Cheri - I love this poem. Thank you, thank you, thank you!

Cheri J. Crane said...

Candace, you're very welcome. ;)This poem did start out as a light-hearted stab at the 3-D pictures that were popular a few years back. I was truly mocked for not being able to see what was there. It was all in good fun---but as I wrote this particular poem, another image emerged---rather similar to the 3-D picture scenario. My life is weird like that. =D