Grace intruded Grace intruded upon my
habitual sorrow
and marked me for its own
like a pattern of ink
under the skin,
like an imperfectly
minted coin,
a misprinted postage
stamp
or a raw diamond selected
for its flaws.
Plucked like a flower
for a vase on a bedside
table;
like a wild colt culled
from the herd –
lassoed, corralled and
broken;
like a shell found on the
beach
or an injured bird unable
to pursue
its migratory route,
I left the broad path
for the narrow and the
crooked
and now – no path at all
. . .
making my way as everyone
must
who tramps toward the
gates –
without precedent,
yet, with a Companion who
by turns comforts,
inspires, fortifies and
illumines the way ahead.
O child of God, Grace is
beyond your ken.
To whom much is given much is required.
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