Morning Grace


(Mostly) Every sunday I stand here,

In awe.

Light reaches in;


Touching glass.

Our deeper rhythms – we call out, kneel, turn.

Again in this place,

A rushing love.

A steady reminder.

A collective prodding.

Faithful arms are reaching out, down

God is bringing

To me, who longingly needs it;

This welcome I am receiving.


Again and again.

It’s adding to my self.

A space carved out where I can sing and remember

A praise that has always been,

A praise that abides within.


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