I am so often in awe.
 
Of another being’s endurance or grace — perhaps a lover, a river, the sea, or even time itself.
 
I want to learn how they do it -from borrowing calm, to letting life flow through, to finally resting in stillness and reverence.
 
To see life as a moving tapestry of happenstances, tragedies or ecstasy; living through them, but not allowing any of these to change the essential core of what they are, why they are.
 
They seem to allow both beauty and pain to go through them - such that they are touched and changed, but not rendered cynical or bitter or stormy or intractable.
To be that indestructible rock which is soft to touch; to be that bleeding evening which heals; to be that person who is stubbornly calm and unchanging amidst every provocation we might throw at him.
 
I want to be that person who recognizes the essential fragrance of the unseen flower or is hurt but does not drive into a town like a storm.
 

If you liked this poem, consider listening to these other poems on the grace we encounter in our lives - 

Her Grace Without Notice
Rediscovering Heaven
Sipping Tea in a Rumi Morning 


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