Just when you think
that you’re getting a grip
on the cards you’ve been dealt
the deck gets shuffled
Again.

Just when you find that last corner piece
to make sense of the puzzle
playtime is over
the jigsaw goes back in the box
Again.

Just when you’re pretty sure
you’ve worked out the rules
and established fair play
the whistle is blown
Again.

Red card!
Doesn’t fit!
New deal!  

Yet
Some rules are not discarded:
Morning and evening,
springtime and harvest,
Gravity still brings those apples down to earth  

And some puzzles resolve that unexpected piece
by simply making peace
with mystery
It’s ok if it doesn’t look like the picture on the box  

Pinterest fails and unfinished tales beautiful in their own way
For some deals are made to be remade
Each day  

Each moment played
repurposed into an ever transforming parade
of all things working together
somehow, eventually
beyond what I see
Now.  

So I choose to believe
You are moving
and speaking
and planning
For good
For glory
For grace
Again.  

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