GRACE
Not like a dancer,
or a fool kept from death
by incredible circumstance.
There is a grace transcending
theory or debate, when you
so become yourself
that there is no other,
no other context,
no other thought,
or desire.
It is the grace of being
so right for your moment
that you fulfill the world,
unkillable in your fitness
and knowing nothing more
than your own movement,
perfect in its authority.
It is a grace so clear
that it can only be
and cannot conceive itself,
a ring of water,
widening the light
on a small pond,
an answer
without reflection.