If it hadn’t been for the tide coming in
I’d have sat longer.
I dozed, the soft thickness of fading easy.
Legs outstretched and eyes closed behind shades and ball cap.
I was praying, not napping.
I was recalling grace.
I’ll spare the details of it all, the times grace came near in forms other than answer or reprieve.
Real rescues, touchable.
There are some times grace looked my way and were it not for grace
there are places there and
then I’d have gone.
And maybe not come back the same.
Grace, so very hard to grab hold of like oh, goodness thank you God, when you had no idea of grace
being grace back then.
You were gone, too far gone to see.
So you think of grace as evidence, as your protector standing from a distance watching and nodding to say,
There’s a reason you are still here.