Finding Grace Giving Grace Being Grace
Today five cranes flew by my window East to South.
The new sun blushed with morning, and I reminisced on waking up
with you in the red metal bed that fit us like a glove, white cotton around
our whole selves as we moved as priestesses do, spent from ceremony.
We spooned still tethered in dream threads, sleep thinning with the mist outside.
How did we get so lucky?
The smooth fit of our bodies, gently finding grace.
We hope this moment will cycle back again and again;
that we could replicate such blessed disruption as if it weren’t like the tides and the weather.
How many others among us, calling this blue green miracle, home, woke to disruption -
to a 7.8 earthquake, a thirty-eight-railcar crash, a Russian missile in the roof?
It boggles my mind, how our Great Awakener came in waves of pleasure and
pummeled others with a big mean stick. We will never be the same.
They will never be the same. Nonetheless life tumbles on, taking us with it.
They say to stay in process, to ride its central channel, is like being in prayer.
Maybe dwelling in process gives grace to the world.
I like our flow, the beneficence of touch. Tonight, the moon will set
with her consort, Venus. They shimmer on the horizon, we shine back.
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