Forsythia

Sometimes I wonder what I have been missing all along.  When something comes into view for the first time, something as simple as forsythia amidst the honeysuckle bushes, I wonder how I missed it in the first place.  Of course if we don*t see something, if we haven*t noticed in the first place, will we miss it?  It*s the whole observer/observed, tree falls in the forest thing.   

It is Holy Week.  I am doing what I can to notice what I can.  I will attend the clergy Quiet Day tomorrow at the Morton Arboretum.  Sometimes when I can be in the midst of silence, I not only hear more, but I see more as well. 

I knew we had honeysuckle in the back.

It wasn*t until this week

I noticed the forsythia,

one yellow patch in the midst

of the honeysuckle.

How could I miss it all these years,

Looking past the forsythia

Looking through the forsythia,

To watch the ducks?

It seems this year I get to watch the ducks

Framed in forsythia, lemon yellow.

The ducks have probably always been framed

In a bit of forsythia

At this time of year.

I didn*t notice

Until now.

It continues interesting

What gets pieced into the picture,

What is never painted in.

So much it seems

That is never painted in.

I feel the philosopher.

It stands to reason

So Much

Has never been painted in.