Sometimes Grace tastes a lot like snow
It has the fragrance of joy
And the essence of good friends
It is as clear as a cloudless sky
And has the quiet hiss of sliding
between the moments
It is easy to find Grace
On the top of a mountain
At altitudes too high for angst to breathe
Seemingly farther from the pull of gravity
Closer to the arms of Mother Nature
Or heaven
Or the Sage who sits on top
If, by chance, those niggling thoughts follow you
Grace will help you escape
For a while
By showing you the white spaces between the trees
And the secret stashes of powdery snow that muffle everything
And by reminding you to let go
Of that belly laugh and whoop that is bubbling up
From deep inside
Grace always lingers
In the edges of your mind
Waiting for the chance to touch you
Or to push you over the edge
Into the experience that is life.
2/2/09
LB
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