Patterns

The rain is falling.
It dampens silent soil below.
The sun has been glowing.
It shines at night when I could not see it.
Winds blew from an unknown place.
They spread the aroma of dust.

Brown and green: colors of a plant.
Blue and yellow: colors of the sky.
Rainbow shades paint the animals.
My thoughts flow with the colors of the mind.
I try to paint all these visions in my heart.

Patterns form and endlessly change.
Many are common and familiar to most.
Some are rare and fleeting.
When I see any of them I am in awe.

My ears are full of the music of life.
Birds call outside my window.
I also listen to familiar songs in my home

My life is a complex pattern.
It is unique in depth and form.

Noble it is to shape ones pattern.

W. Wayne B.
June 2011

About William Wayne Smith

I'm a poet, library fan and maker.
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