I make about 100 decisions a day. All around the same question. And there are only two options.

Ghosts and Grace

My chords have been taken away
and soaked in the song of the rain, hail and snow -
Everything that we wished to see, go.

Except for you.

No.
I do not wish to see you melt away into spring
as with the December elements of cold.
This young green not becoming of your pale eyes, old.

Come here.
Even as you freeze over like the moments
Passing dark between us. Here and there a stray.
But the sound of the rain, drowns out my prayers.

Do you see love waiting under the wizened boughs?
Patient and transparent as the sky is, out on the plains.
Do not be deceived by her gentle face, for her hands are pierced with battle.

And Her final cry will carry me through the seasons.

Grace is

Sometimes grace is having the strength to persevere through the storm.

Sometimes it’s having the guts to rebuild, to take a chance, to follow your nose and your heart rather than your head.

Sometimes grace is finding out that your preconceived notions are dead wrong.

Sometimes it’s being surprised by joy.

Sometimes grace is something you can feel even if you can’t see it.

And sometimes it’s a bowl of watermelon gazpacho when you were expecting Taco Bell.

~ Sin Boldly