Change in seasons

I think I will re-read Ecclesiastes: a time for everything, and everything in its time.  I loved the song Turn, Turn, Turn.  I used to have that one memorized too... all the verses.  I even hear the Peter, Paul and Mary harmony in my head.

I sat next to one of my new colleagues at dinner the other night.  He told me there were so many things one learned in school that were not useful at all in the field of substance abuse counseling  I told him I thought it was all useful: every bit of school, every bit of what we brought with us from our past.  When I told him I was an Episcopal priest... he stopped... and fumphered for something to say... Well, he eventually said, That is beyond interesting.  Maybe it was not the time for me to share that particular bit of information.  But I do believe every bit is useful.  Not all of it needs to be shared, certainly, but one never knows when a particular bit will make a connection with someone.

The seasons have changed, and I*m not talking about the onslaught of summer heat.  As usual, I notice after the change has happened.  

Now I am an intern at a particularly wonderful half-way house, and even beyond that, I have a range of folk to work with for whom I could never be specifically prepared.  This is familiar, actually.  A parish priest never knows who will walk through the door next, either.  I am now in a field where there is the myth of specialization.  But, as we all know, everyone is special, just like everyone else.  The season of enforced reprieve has taught me at least one thing:  How to sit until my vision clears.  And THEN move.

I didn*t realize last year.

All summer I watched

The thistle grow and bloom and seed,

The goldfinches fly in

For breakfast and lunch and dinner.

Last year was the season

To watch and learn:

Thistles and goldfinches,

The lady in the red coat,

The ducks.

When I thought it was over

I was given more time

To watch and learn

Different things,

Another season

Or two.

Enforced reprieve.

With that season

I learned to sit

Until my vision clears,

Only then

Move on.

I do not know what*s next,

What*s now,

But I know

The season has changed dramatically.

Now people begin to line up

Outside my door.

They are not the ones I thought would come

At all.

My imagination is big

But clearly

Not big enough.

Now I see the change in seasons,

The people,

All the people.

I wait and watch,

Sit until my vision clears.

Only then

Move.