Perhaps Grace

17 November 2013
11:11 pm

T. —

(Notes from St. Giles this morning, written during the morning services, trying to get “Gravity” out of my head:)

In the darkening cinema, there was plenty of air.
We were safe and secure, all these paused lives
in a brief escape from our own concerns.
Life may be tough, but we have breath and are not dying.

When you made this shot, did you embed these insights
into the lens to give us new eyes for the truth?
When you gave these words to another subtle body’s mouth,
did you know exactly what could be delivered?

In the moment when she was reborn and saved,
she shed her skin. She slept, weightless and rooted
to the emptiness that opens when everything is possible
and nothing is left.

When you built this window, did you know
what it could frame?

What is space but emptiness and potential?

I couldn’t tell you what it was about
not because I didn’t understand it
but because your heart is different than my heart
and has learned to hear different words.

Perhaps patience is the ability to see
that though our paths are all the same,
we each wear different soles and skin,
which translates to separate eyes and blood,
and builds up stories with a unique pulse,
like fingerprints, like heartbeats.

I don’t know how to say this more clearly
without losing the richness,
the multiplicity of meaning.

Perhaps dying is graceful.
Perhaps it is a falling asleep, a welcome home,
a heartfelt lullaby.
Perhaps letting go is only scary for those who remain,
who are let go.
Perhaps the release is where life is.

Perhaps to feel helpless is to learn what we can and cannot change,
— is to discover our own influence and capabilities.
Perhaps to live is to choose to do more with what we still have.
Perhaps to die is to be reborn, full and weightless and redeemed.
Perhaps grace pulls the choice from our hand.
Perhaps the confirmation is as subtle as a gentle nod of the head,
closing the eyes, and finally putting down the burden.


Good morning and goodnight,



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