Patterns in the Wood Grains

In a table are the stretching bands of Jupiter's storms and not the cold eyes I saw before of the snake haired medusa The way things look depends on how I fill my cup Nature, isn't she some unknown wisdom The way her patterns begin in one kind of physical object and ends in another created object? Ending just the same. Repeated and used over again from thing to thing as if the idea was too good to put a clamper on. How can patterns of this magnitude always impress and never grow dull before the eyes? Humans we wear everything out, and she can go on this way as if unaware of how well she is parceled together. Giving the impression that it took no effort on her part to be dressed this well by the fruits of Gods bounty She transmits it generously to us.