! In The Steps Of Rumi 81: Grace - Poem by Michael Shepherd
You see the word ‘grace’.
It’s just a word. You don’t use it,
don’t really know how to
think of it; whether it’s real,
what it does, whether you’d notice it
That’s OK. So,
are you missing anything?
Make it quick, I’m busy…
Right. Think of appetite.
That feeling in the stomach
that it’s high time. Mm, maybe
something’s going on in the kitchen;
Everything on the table looks
good enough to eat…
this pear: so perfectly ripe, the juice
running down your wrist yet
even more of it contained.
It’s almost too good to eat..
quick, stop the camera right there:
subliminally, one single frame: grace.
observed by human,
Remember it. Grace.
In some languages, the same
word for the gift of it, and
for thanks. Gracias, amigo..
Deo gratia.. that’s gifts
from God, not of God.
Or, thanks to God.
Does that matter, when it’s matter?
Beautiful, isn’t it?
Comments about ! In The Steps Of Rumi 81: Grace by Michael Shepherd
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You