Patterns

It seems some days are tessellations

A fractal recapitulation

Thus, for some, is desecration

Yet yields another's jubilation

And here have we a complication

A puzzle for just contemplation

Accept thy patterns with hesitation?

Or with joy ascend unto thy station?

See thou routines as desolation?

Or priceless gifts worth re-creation?

Are the fires of life a motivation?

Or an all-consuming conflagration?

Are the ticks of time your ear's vexation?

Or heralds who bear blessed proclamation?

Know the status of thy situation

Is not beyond manipulation

Contentment, hear this attestation

'tis a path now due our navigation

The Lord who laid this road's foundation

Will aid when bent toward deviation

They who steer toward Heaven's nation

Will find a sound orientation

God who set all in circulation

So sees us in our oscillations

And can redeem their ruination

Providing needed sustentation

Scattered pieces, 'tis our relation

Our days are such, in aggregation

The Lord, with humble fragmentations

Can forge his glorious constellations