The child bouncing on my knee
Whose sparkling laughter fills the room
Grants vision so it’s God I see;
The Breath of Life, passed through the womb
The girl who runs, whose wind-filled hair
Trails, lit by the sun’s bright ray
Spills God’s o’erflowing love, as she
Is innocent of naught but play.
With passing time and tide’s upheave
Oft buffeted by hurt and pain
Our scaled eyes gain painful sight,
And Wisdom is God’s Gift again.
Into the sharpening world that waits
Where lost souls’ separations cast
Pained glee at others’ wayward paths;
They whisper lies: that this pain lasts.
Yet at each stage, ’fore birth, past grave
No matter weather, person, place
A peace, though past our grasp, awaits;
At once within; without; God’s Grace.
As Grace is constant; present; full;
We have but hold a simple prayer:
Through open hearts, we find our Source.
To live out Love. God’s Grace is there.
Stephen Bolles
All rights reserved
9/23/14