That Place where I find Grace
I walk beneath the oak, the ash, the birch and the beech
Under where their boughs meet.
And their mantle enfolds me, loves me, holds me.
A butterfly accompanies me along the way,
Till it and I are startled by pigeons, making such a racket in the trees.
I pick up a dandelion, one that’s seeded, a beautiful ball of fluff.
I blow – ABCD – what will my husband’s name be?
I pick up another – 1,2,3,4,5 – how many children will I have.
A cheeky rabbit sums me up before running into the ditch.
There are primroses, cowslips, violets pink and blue,
Wild strawberries and buttercups too.
I think of when in the snow these were hiding underground
And now with the sunshine, lush abound,
And how we too forget those harsher times
When the “Sun” comes into our lives
Brings out the best in us, makes us beautiful too.
I thought of you all on this afternoon walk
And hope that you too can find that place of grace.
