There is grace in sunlight that falls across
closed eyelids-----encouraging awareness
from a sea of dreams

There is grace when leaves and wind separate
light into a tapestry---that
stirs the crown of heaven when it brushes the brow
of a baby's sleep

There is grace in sunlight that passes through
an open window where gentle breezes
lift curtains ---between---the uncertainty
of the room and the light of day

Or the shafted beam broken by a crack
a slat, or blind where dust
dances gleaming like jewels

Even is it in a mind most blind?
or silhouette the darkest space?
Does light not make every shape?

And when water turns to stone
in some distant silent space--
will it not be there to touch
the barren ground?

Sun and Stars heavenly dust
an endless ------yet
familiar Grace