Grace has visited me
In little miracles
That defy basic logic.

Like the fact that
I get to love my children
Despite the baggage
I dragged into motherhood,
Those balls and chains
From my own childhood
Mostly gone wrong.

Like the fact that
I get to be whole now,
The broken infant,
The sturdy little soldier girl,
The fat girl
(Who is fat no more)
And all the others
Hugging and laughing
Like the old friends they are;
Like the guardians they’ve
Always been;
Their conspiracies to protect me
Thick with love and devotion –

Me, being there for me.

Grace has visited me,
And Gratitude,
And I’m suddenly rich
In an otherwise history of lack.

04/30/2011

Posted on 05/01/2011
Copyright © 2024 Alison McKenzie