Reflection upon the in-betweenness of things produces unexpected results—A critical time that warrants the closest scrutiny. Yet, so strapped for beginnings, so obsessed for shortcuts, so impatient for outcomes, I’ve often lost untold riches that could have broadened my vision even further.

Only within the end of my senior years have I deepened the unwrapping of the layers of my birthright: I call this transition time. No longer in a hurry about anything, I stop in my tracks and poke around, much like a tree sparrow examining a seed outside my study window. Especially is this true of a striking metaphor in a poem, more to stash away for future use. Such experiences evoke deep sighing, laughter, even exclamation, “Would you look at that!”

At times, I feel as though I were being turned upside down. Life has a way of doing precisely that—whatever it takes to keep going, with the full engagement of the senses and the ongoing search for words to scratch the surface of reality.

Yesterday’s sole blooming of the gold crocus in my front garden evidenced this imperative to stop and look: How the dull grey/brown mulch framed this first sign of new life, as if a wink from Creator God, for that was what it was. Later today, it will snow – another wink.

This is the Ultimate who we seek, hiding out in the in-betweenness  of things.