If God delights in me,
even a little,
why shouldn’t I delight
in grace more than in
self-congratulation?
What if God’s little
delight is infinite?
Shouldn’t grace best me?
…
But I wander to the
snow fields of self-care
and wallow in the cold
ice-blanket alone.
I will delight in me.
I will satisfy
grief and the longing for
oneness and justice.
But grace stands above me,
a distant, present
mass of glorious flame
that warms regardless
of my bitter self-love.
The gravity draws
like a salt cure and leads
me to the threshold.
I hear singing…