40 Grace

I

There is the push and pull

of Days

on Repeat – again and again

we Strive and Struggle

and we are sometimes met with

Grace

Refreshing in its smooth candor,

the pieces fit and flow,

and in our imperfectness

We are Whole.

Bountiful, we bring

our offerings

Into this life

Share my fruit

My basket overflows

shining apples

spotted bananas

the occasional mango, in the southern climes.

Fruit flows from our outstretched arms

and the stars shatter into

thin Air.

II

All in good time, the

pieces

fall together,

as if they had always been.

The seemingly disparate pieces,

found/space together

without the veil of judgment.

A mad rush to finish without tasting

Eat up this whole world

  before I knew the taste

of anything but blood

gauzy freedom, tantalizing

falling clean around

the

Edges of things

And the pieces fall together.