Friday Musing – Observation Poem

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Two fields

The field of Noticing

The field of Observation

Divided by

A centuries old

Stone wall

The kind you want to follow


I enter and walk through

The field of Noticing

Reviewing life

Buckets in hand

I have come to

Begin my collections

The noticings

Of the years

Decades, even, are

Scattered over the field

I zigzag







And even

All the different me’s

I scoop them up


Drop them in the

Appropriate bucket


One by one

As many as I can carry

For this visit

I place the buckets

On the wall

Curious what

I will discover

I climb over

Into the gorgeous

Open field of


Benches spread all around

Holding pillows of myriad hues

An invitation to

Sink into the flow of




I spread out

The noticings

From each bucket

Careful not to mix them

Even though

They will all blend together

In a tapestry


For now

I need to be with them


I explore each collection

With intention


The noticings begin to make sense

Some weaving together


Like puzzle pieces

Fitting into place

I start to hear

And take into my being

The cumulative

Stories of each bucket

Some finished

Some unfinished

I realize

How separate

Each noticing is

And so often

How I try

To make sense

Of one by itself

When I now see

Each one as so partial

In the field of Observation

Immersed in Kairos time

With each astounding collection

I begin

To see


And feel

The whole

More clearly

This visit shedding light

Even as darkness comes

I place some collections

Back in their buckets

Others stay

Safe in place


For me to return

To sit with them longer

Continuing to piece together

What they

Want me to know

I sense

This is

The first excursion

Of many

As I meander home

I play with Rumi’s words

There is a field of Observation

The field of Noticing says

I’ll meet you there

For I have discovered

It is there

I begin

To know and understand

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Blessing for Wonder in Age
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August Playfulness – the Well of Observation

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