May 20, 2018
Gravity and Grace
Gravity is so ponderous some days
It rips the flesh down to the very bone.
Even the air is heavy with a scorching haze.
Till joy—and sometimes life itself— is overthrown.
The birds and butterflies have wings of lead;
Cut flowers wilt beneath the crushing weight
Of being in the presence of the dead
And sparring far too long with cruel fate.
But most days hope prevails despite the pain,
And shafts of light pierce through the murky gloom.
New fragrant buds are fed by gentle rain,
And with them happiness begins to bloom.
Grace resurrects the soul, releasing it to soar,
Undoing gravity and death forevermore.
Copyright © 2018 by Teresa Roberts Johnson (All rights reserved)
Fr. Stephen said,
May 26, 2018 at 1:19 pm
Absolutely beautiful….love the sentiments and the poem’s construction…
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Teresa Roberts Johnson said,
May 26, 2018 at 1:40 pm
Thank you very much. I wrote it in response to the death of a friend.
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