When I look back on my life upon that final day I wonder what I will see?
A reflection of who I was, what impact I made, and who I turned out to be.
It all began like a tiny thread when I was born into this world.
The pattern of a life that I would weave incomplete until the final twirl.
Perhaps like a sweater with twists and turns reflecting this pallet of life.
Striations and holes and colors galore laid out before my eyes.
Unique and perfect but only at a glance if looking closely one’s sure to see…
The gaps and strains of well-worn strands some broken some tied for strength.
Only with others did my pattern occur intertwined on the roads long past.
My kindred, my friends like waves through the years until finished I am at last.
With critical eyes, if you look real close, turning the sweater inside out…
Imperfection runs rampant all over my life unseen below shadows of doubt.
Nostalgic the journey with sewing complete this design of the Father put to rest.
How will it look to the ones left behind when I ascend to the comfort of His breast?