"How do I love thee?
Let me count the ways."
--Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Swinging on an invisible thread, a tiny green inchworm caught my eye yesterday while watering the shrubs at the side of the house. I happened to look up, and the angle of the sun's rays illumined his stellar performance. Watching him joyfully ride the breeze, measuring the upward climb, inch by inch.
A childhood tune wafted in the air that seemed to come out of nowhere.
Inchworm, Inchworm, measuring the marigolds. You and your arithmetic, you'll probably go far. Inchworm, Inchworm seems to me, you'd stop and see how beautiful they are.
As I sang to him, he raised his green head, and wiggled up higher on sun-lit thread. I didn't take it personally. I'm not a great singer but it came from my heart.
But, there was more.
Later, in the morning, something wiggled on the knee of my peach clam diggers on the ride home from the market. Curled up in a tiny green ball, I wasn't sure what it was at first. I'd thrashed around a bit in surprise of another visitor. I hoped the inchworm was okay, and said a little prayer. Slowly, he lifted his head ever so slightly. He was alive! At home, I gently placed the little messenger in the shade of the oak to rest on a leaf.
Inchworms... 2 times in 1 day, seemed like an angel prescription. Again, think more with heart, less with logic.
Curious, I looked up the symbolism on-line:
Inchworm: "Something in your life is not adding up. Take the time to figure out what needs to be re-measured."
Measure twice, cut once.
Go figure. This morning, from the sun-room, I happened to catch sight of an inchworm dangling by a thread. The answer to a search for a blog photo.
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Although last night, an on-line search had turned up a perfect photo. A tiny green inchworm, back hunched, measuring my favorite flower, a purple iris. A sign from God that I'm on the right path. And, iris, at one time was the word for a rainbow.
Love and peace,
Rae Karen
