When I survey the patterns of my life
the jewels displayed there force me to confess
that through the difficulties and all strife
some hidden influence negates distress.
Perchance celestial keepers guard my days —
angelic wardens working winsomely —
my heart intention with them interplays:
All yearning is to them a litany.
But yet in darker moments I can doubt
that seraphim take interest in my span;
then from the blue a gem comes sparkling out
and serendipity unveils the plan.
Thus, even though some paths are incomplete,
somehow I always land upon my feet.
© 2012, Alan Morrison