A Small Grace

Come along now, didn’t you know yet we were going

Into this wide world field, we are picking wildflowers,

Shy child in every shade and size we can find. We will

Not worry about names, hellos first, introductions later,

Our arms will grow heavy but glad of the company,

Bright, shining petals tickling our cheeks as we carry

Our finds home. We will spill our treasures upon

The kitchen table, divide them into happy laughing

Bouquets, tie our posies in ribbons, hopes tinted

Turquoise and gold, we will find serenity in the flurry

Of our grateful, nimble fingers.

Once we have finished this afternoon’s worthy quest,

We will knock upon each door, proffering our humble

Beauties, to all who greet us there.

We will show our face at every doorstep.

We will not miss a single home.

We will offer these blossoms

If we have to rap to be heard twice.

We will offer them to those who opened

Their arms to hold us close to them

We will offer them to those who wished

Us nothing but a life of ill-luck.

We will offer them to souls whom their hands

were empty, their ears listened and heard.

We will offer them to those not realizing their own

Plenty, who want more, have yet learned how to give.

We will offer flowers to souls who love us without bounds.

We will offer flowers to souls who mean us constant harm.

We will extend our arms out with our posies are healing

And amends, until every single stem, leaf and has left

Our amiable hands. Until we have nothing left

Of ourselves, save joy, to surrender, and that, too

We release from within our hold, gladly.