Saving Grace

Tomorrow's come a long, long way to help you, Yes, it's your saving grace… Steve Miller

Whenever I came to the thought that I had at last seen way too much

          There was still her calm voice that just would not let me go

All those times it seemed too hard to stand tall for just another hour

          That wordless patience and her kindness, from somewhere, reappeared

When the darkness fell upon me and there was nowhere I could turn

          Came to me finally carrying gentle slumber and awoke me feeling better

In the grim silence that no one else could open

          A gentle nuzzle reminded me of the man I had to be

When I sat, head in hands, alone and full of empty desolation

          She came quietly and patiently, her hand softly on my knee  

As I thrashed about in the anger at all my waste and confusion

          I did not rely upon her presence and never realized what it meant

Despite my dirt and noise, sins, failings, mistakes and omissions

          Somehow that gentle quiet north light never left me for very long

In the great rush at foolishness that was the brief passing of my life

          It took too long for me to see her grace so perfect, yet only behind the scenes

Against all the odds and the heat, dust and the never-ending shouting

          Nonetheless, in interludes of quiet one knew, her gentle strength existed

Through all the years of stubbornness at the ignorance and destruction

          One sweet chord would always resonate when things were in their places

Looking back through memories windows now I see that light fell gently thru

          Hurrying in my pride I struggled and I floundered and she saw it all again

When it all turned black and I lost faith in everything, but mostly in myself

          Later came a feeling that was not a thought and a hope not born of reason

Awakened, as I often was, from restless dreams of my many failures

          A gentle presence glided in just before the morning birds began to call

Often when I summed up to little, the events and actions of my life, she came

          Asking nothing from me, saying nothing to me, quiet, yet so complete

Charging forward to unknown destinations, cursing myself and the world

          Never realizing the quiet web she spun so lightly all around me

Howling out my isolation in cold and bitter emptiness, I sometimes wept

          Now I am ashamed that my needless blasphemies broke her blessed stillness

Full of toxic hubris, I plunged on alone through my private weeds

          A sad, faint smile played upon her face, for she had seen it all before

Wasting time and resources and making lots of noise, I groped so blindly on

          Even then, for brief quiet moments, I caught glimpses of a different way

For many years as I wandered that knife edge of self-destruction

          She bore silent witness that I had learned nothing from other’s failures

Whirling like a nervous dervish and kicking up the dust, so I passed my life

          Believing that her scattered images were the only illusions that I held

Often would I try and escape through drugs and mindless recreation

          And she would merely remain in silence, waiting off at some safe distance

As I trampled mindlessly on things beautiful that did not defend themselves

          She stood in sadness to see if I, like others, would slip away in blindness

Sometimes when I could see no cause to find hope in my endeavors

          Later there would come a peaceful merest stirring of gentle leaves

Now I just hope I can restore bits of what I have broken and thrown away

          Maybe remain quiet sometimes, instead of always shouting hoarsely

And these days when it gets too noisy and acrid smoke is choking me

          At least now I finally see the uselessness of the silly rage that fills me

Seeing so much precious time gone by in empty bitterness brings tears to my eyes

          But I am sure that in all her grace and mercy, I need not be forgiven