Not one to call attention to herself,

mouth set in quiet determination,

lady even dressed in overalls and rubber boots,

standing in the muck.


She is beauty speaking quietly,

forgiving sin before the prayer,

the sweetest sound heard by the wretched,

transgressor pleading on his knees.


She is Pistis Sophia,

close to God’s heart,

she’s where he sends his creative motion.


Seeker calls her by many names…

she is like the Crane soaring in the sky,

Buddhists light their hopeful incense,

seeking Kuan Yin’s guidance.


Compassion found in lowliest places,

filled rice bowl for the street urchin,

warm blanket for the homeless,

where we witness,

God’s heart moving others to grace.


2 thoughts on “Grace

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