Grace Remains
I am human:
an edge of small jealousies
and a grasping
fist, creeping ever closer.
The dark gets heavier too, I cover my sin
and hide my doubts.
I have a fear of drowning.
Who can pluck the constant frailty from my mortal frame?
I burn and burn and burn with what I cannot master.
Only One can take this burden or bear
to hold it.
Only One was born to know. He knows with an unknown
Tenderness.
I take His yoke and offered solace.
I eat His bread without scarceness.
There is nothing He won’t give.
I grasp His arm and feel no shadow.
The Light comes softly, dawn rising—
Siobhan Westrop lives, writes, explores, prays and finds grace in the Canadian Rockies. She has published work in Tiny Seed Literary Journal and Cerasus Magazine. She has two chapbooks, NATURALLY and UNOBSERVABLE.