The Gift

In this death,
there’s been an intersection of beauty, truth and freedom.
It carries me to shores further along
than I’ve been in a long while.

With new views, feelings and certainties.
I am renewed in knowing the beauty of now,
the power of this moment,
and the grace of all things.

I attempt to pick up words to
touch this grace.
Useless.
Yet here I am.

A humble gratitude pours forth.
I’m in awe of the potent force that
swept clear a lifetime of
false ideas.

I lived within those ideas for so long,
I couldn’t see them.
They become part of the frame
I was looking through.

They limited me, as does this tool of words.
Some gifts are eternal.
Not made for pictures or words,
reserved for new shores and heart to hear.

Mary