Pay Attention

 By Cathy

she sees the patterns of her life clearly now

something to do with her age no doubt

it was not always like this

but now she recalls. . . 

and when she does she understands the patterns  were always there

she just wasn't paying attention

the little girl walks past the wobbly old fence, her red flip-flops

beating out the rhythm of her own walking

flip-flop, flip-flop

her mother is close behind her

 reminding her to not go too far

they emerge at the ocean’s edge and she plays in the sun

while her father fishes on the shore; down the beach from them

later the three of them sit outside the camp site 

and examine her treasures  

tiny seashells, homes for clams and snails, a sand-dollar 

and a few crab claws

he explains how almost all of nature and life has its own pattern

if we only take the time to notice

but the little girl is too busy lining up her seashells in a row 

and hardly listens

  the chestnut brown braid of the teenage girl

almost reaches her waist

as she sit on the floor in the kitchen of her childhood home

she is tethered to the beige telephone

which hangs above her on the wall

and her fingers gently trace the diamond pattern 

of the worm linoleum beneath her

the cord bounces up and down creating a playful pattern 

on the wall behind her

and if she listened carefully

she would hear the rhythm of the rain 

as it hits the glass windowpane

but she is too engaged in the story of  her best friend's break-up

to hear anything but her voice

so again the patterns around her go unnoticed  

years later, as a new mother, she tells her husband she has figured  out  

the sleeping pattern of their new son

only to have to tell him the very next day that it has changed

she is in awe of their son's toes and the symmetry of his little body

perfect in every way and she can’t get enough of him

she reads to him, repeated words and sings songs

clapping out the rhythm

as the itsy bitsy spider climbs higher and higher

but she is so tired she can hardly manage a shower

and again the patterns go unnoticed

today the patterns of her life delight her so

the making of her morning latte, the walks she and the dog take, 

the flowers in her garden

her daily photo

patterns emerge all around her

winter crystal snowflakes

does he love me or love me not petals of the daisy

summer ladybug wings

and butterscotch orange leaves

her father was right and she understands this now

 and she wishes she could thank him

thank him for all he taught that little girl 

because today. . .

there is not a day that goes by 

that she does not pay attention

to the simple patterns of her every day life

:::

what patterns do you notice in your view finder? 

xoxoxo