Grace

Guess what, grace? I don’t understand you.
In this cash-in and receive society, that is a bad trade.

To-Do List:
cleaning and re-cleaning
tucking away ugly loose ends
washing my hair once again
smoothing over things that don’t matter

The Mundane
convinces me that I don’t need you, grace.
It robs me of time and reality
it reduces life
to tidy equations:
a garble of outward success,
checking off lists,
and self-sufficiency.

I catch a glimpse of The Giver of grace.
my soul drinks
I fade.

Come here, grace.
The Mundane isn’t trustworthy.
I’m going to The Giver.