morning meditation

grace. i am suffused by her, infused by her

she bathes me, permeates me,

swirls like mist into my cracks,

behind closed doors, beneath the sills,

through locked and rusted keyholes.

between my toes,

she softens

every step, like treading upon air…

or walking upon water…

making it impossible

to crush, to trample, to lay

anything to waste.

grace,

never refused, she turns back

the thought that harms, the self

judgment, self critique, self

recrimination.

how can something so utterly soft

turn back hardness such as that?

it is diffused,

perhaps,

into her pillow, my very hardness

is suffused, infused

yes, even that within me

which intended harm

to me, is loved

by her. she softens my whole

being.

moments flow

as if through me,

finding no surface upon which to concuss,

no purchase upon which to snag.

she wraps Herself

about them and they exit

as my breath, as mist

rising from the surface on a cool september

morning, drawn forth by the rising of the light,

grace dawns upon my being,

upon my story,

upon my life,

lifting the heaviness

of yesterday’s grief, of yesterday’s sorrow,

of remorse, of shame

of pain,

moistening my world with dew.

so saturated is my world with her, she leaves

remembrances now upon my skin

as i brush past her gifts, hidden

in full view,

along my way.

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