it’s somewhere. . .
out there. . .
in here. . .

so oftentimes,
not completely clear. . .

but if you’ll just
be still. . .

enough so you
undo the grip
of fist
that gnashes down
on countless knots
and layers,

you may find,
in your resist,
that fist, hard-held,
morphs quick
to magic fist release,
and you’ll
soon see
and feel
that craftily well-hidden peace,
in deep surprise,
as, all at once,
you realize
how very near
it really was. . .

hand flat,
upright kissed
by paired hand flat,
which either found
or contemplated
thanks profound
that peace that comes
both to and from
a modicum of prayer.

And though
that move for you
might make you feel like
a fish removed from water blue,
you may well
just smile and laugh
and sign the well-met
challenge with your autograph,
at the odd thought
of how your strange way to peace
has come to fit you
like a glove.

This entry was posted in Poetic Musing (Longer Poems), Poetry, Prayer. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s