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I do not at all understand the mystery of grace - only that it meets us where we are but does not leave us where it found us. ~ Anne Lamott

In the still of a quiet morning,
	as the dew buries the thoughtless
		sounds of night, coughing out
			stories, reflections, music

gently whispering over the mountains
	misty rhythms of memories, hesitant
		nature’s wisdom forcing the night		
			to lose the fragile grays, blending

with blue, heavy answers thrust into us,
	Praises meant for the One who teaches
		grace, faith, love that never dissuades 
			love that lasts, on and on, forever

the way for numbed hearts to sacrifice
	their loneliness and lack of understanding
		for poetry that listens and grieves, kind
			like the wonder of a spirit who feels

what the heart is holding onto,
	what silent dawn is remembering
		what the soul is waiting for
			the grace of a tender sense

sensitive to the awkward thoughts,
	soft music, delicious threads of grace	
		restoring the faded night to its place
			Beyond the ridges, the crests still now

and the life who feels His light
	caressing the spirit, revealing
		endless miracles, healing
			a moment beyond words

He is the reason for the dawn
	the heart’s wake up call, inviting
		the truth of a spirit who is alive	
			surviving all the dark’s grieving

lasting beyond still dawn, forever
	heavy with dew’s trembling vapors,
		damp words hung by the stars, the skies
			as timeless hues of melancholy subside

and the moon holds out for the sounds
	intimate promises erasing the darkness,
		a dewy rose, a gentle hope, sustenance
			overflowing on the mind, engrossing

vibrating, like the sun’s reflections
	stilling the night, a breath – hesitant
		wild as the moon with its shadows
			silhouettes of glory, penetrating

numinous story of yesterday, mostly buried
	by the music of the stars, glistening
		murmuring hope to the spirit who hears
			God’s beautiful in the dancing leaves

Pulsing with a measure of what peace is,
	stripped of its finery, lifted from doubt
		a blessing poured out so hearts can see
			the love that lives inside the believing

as heaven pours out trust, consideration
	compassion for the worst of us, the defeated
		blowing on the dandelion’s lusty seeds, eventual
			awake as the stars and the seas, creating – breathing

yesterday, for you and me, is a gesture
	frail, fragile lessons in peace, lasting
		to remind our hearts it is He, the Lasting
			who frees the soul from the darkness, the shame

all those things that leave a soul questioning
	leave a light without its intimate reflections
		leave a hope with no way of accepting 
			leave a life without its greatest blessing…

in Him, I find the meaning of existing, 
	Sensation of a place beyond the hills,
		where grace and peace and love soon reveal
			the meaning of salvation’s great appeal.

the meaning of life, as the life stands still
	magnificence imagined on the heart, swelling
		with the tempting of a warmth, bleeding light
			across those who see Him – just keep believing!
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