7.25.2011

Poem: A Prayer for the Balance.



I asked to know real Grace.
It is my namesake
and I have a feeling I need it.
Instead,
I fight.
I break things.
I break.

So I ask,
God, what can this mean?

Is it a name,
or a thing that lives and breathes?
Does it pardon me, or teach me that I’ve been wrong?

On Sunday mornings,
I believe that there is more to it than a church pew.

On other days, I am caught.

Between hospital beds
and the place where harsh words are said,
in that precarious, miraculous balance
between life 

and death,

I then feel it sustaining me.

1 comments:

MissBliss said...

Hi, Bethany, glad to find you! We were working on our engagement stories around the same time for Cup of Jo :).

Your story is awesome! Love that "sure" part you felt...know what you mean!

A fellow writer and book lover--

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