You thought for years the weaving of your life
was best kept shrouded: no public viewing,
thank you all the same, you said; I’ll pass.
Too many crooked rows, those ancient choices
that tore the fabric, that shamed and made the tapestry
ghastly; those old betrayals, sorrows, and doubts: how they ripped
and rent the possible beauty, how the years of falling, groundless,
stunted your design, the loosened threads hanging, aimless and chaotic.
And the failures to evolve, the times you turned from love,
from praise, from flight into the airy possibility of different days:
you consider how the weaving could have astonished—
a whole life in a whole life, if only you’d listened, if only, if only
you’d followed directions issued from other mouths, studied
their patterns, followed their lead, if you’d changed course, paused
long enough, perceived wisdom’s path just there, in front of you.
The missed remarkable: your weaving, your life.
If you’d finally healed the wounds given and received…
And then, one morning, the dazzledance of always light
pierces cleanly through: your omphalosic moment,
your every eye is opened: it was always true—
the weaving’s purely you and only you, embodied now
and always eternal, pursuing Love’s single sweet command:
to travel your own heart’s geography, to weave the wild weaving
within the weaving freely, the jagged, angled, broken, and curved.
And the tensions in the warp and weft? They are what they are,
integral and blessed—lessons, all the lessons every choice invites.
Such grace, the torn and tangled, knotted and abrupt…see how
the severed stitching here is reunited there; finally, you embrace
this once and stunning gift: a self-created life, your own, none other’s.
And so begins the final task: you decorate the torn discordant
holes with threads of fiery gold, with spangles and sea glass
edging your wounds and failures with light: Here is my life,
you say, opened wide; I have been an earnest, faltering pilgrim;
this is my journey and these are my lessons. Then you kneel, awed
before its holy brokenness, its shameless joy, its mystery and miracles.
© Copyright of all visual and written materials on The Daily Round belongs solely to Catherine M. O’Meara, 2011-Present. Unauthorized use is strictly prohibited, without the author’s written approval. No one is authorized to use Catherine O’Meara’s copyrighted material for material gain without the author’s engagement and written permission. All other visual, written, and linked materials are credited to their authors. Thank you, and gentle peace.
THE DAILY ROUND 
Lifts some weights from my heart . . . beautiful thoughts, thank you so much 🙂
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Ah, Judy, how kind of you to share; I’m so grateful. Great and continued gentle peace to you.
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Oh goodness, what an amazing post. It blew my mind is wonderful ways. Thank you! Love and hugs to all.xxxx
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Goodness, how kind of you…although, of course, I hope you are speaking metaphorically, as I love your beautiful mind and would wish it to remain intact. 😘 Love to you and then more. Hope your garden is merry and giving you great joy! XO
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Oh my gosh, Kitty. What a magnificent piece, and a stunning analogy. I/we have always been weaving for so long, always wanting a masterpiece, yet it’s been a (stumbling) masterpiece all along in spite of ourselves. We know this. This is just gorgeous.
Thank you, thank you, thank you. 🌟🌟🌟
Jeanne
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Ah, you’re welcome; exactly what my hospice patients taught me. So often the end of life finally gave them permission to be gracious and spacious with their lives and their assessments of all their choices and the consequences…The gift to me was to learn (try to learn) to offer myself that gentleness now. Still learning. Thank you for your kindness! Hope all is well and your summertime will be merry and blessed. XO
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Hi Kitty, Just finished my first cataract surgery, right eye, yesterday, and am “looking” forward (not so much) to the other eye next Monday. Been a distracted ball of nerves for 2 weeks, but now it’s almost done. All is well; it’s just change, and soon I will be seeing much better. Even now, everything is brighter and more beautiful, and the blue end of the light spectrum has been restored. Yes!
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Oh, I’m so happy to read this, Jeanne! Hooray! I’ve been experiencing some eye issues, too. I value my vision so profoundly. I’m holding the success of both surgeries in my heart: may your healing be deep and swift! XO
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Dearest Kitty, there are no words, at least within me, to express the beauty and truth within this poem. It touched my core and gave me comfort. Thank you for being you.
Fran B.
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Fran! How wonderful to hear from you, and especially to hear this poem touched you and offered comfort. No poet could ask for more; I’m humbled and gifted by your words: what a holy, lucky reciprocity.
I hope you are well and your garden is growing merrily! Gentle peace and great love to you. Thank you, again!
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Oh, my! This one resonated deeply. So much of my life spent allowing the fear of the imperfections being noticed! Still working on it. Thank you!
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It’s lovely how how our fears and imperfections are often the parts of ourselves that can allow us to develop our compassion for ourselves and others most deeply. They often become the basis for our deepest connections in life.
Gentle Peace to your wonderful spirit! XO
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