finding grace

finding grace

A Poem by Emily B

My generous hands

forgot how to pray.

I watched the butterfly

rise on strong winds

hoping that in the opening

and closing

of her silent wings

I might remember.

 

My heart is vacant.

The words all wandered off

and I've been searching-

for what

I can't name.

Hands wide open

and waiting.

 

My knees tremble-

ache-to please again.

But my hands won't remember

and the words won't come back.


© 2011 Emily B



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Featured Review

The beautiful energy of ‘Grace’ is available to each and every one of us, regardless of whether you believe it or not! The mere existence of your being will acknowledge the signs all around you. Very interesting, poignant and self examining write … :-)

Posted 3 Months Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.




Reviews

Sometimes a poem speaks directly to the reader and lifts their soul. I believe you have done that here.

Posted 6 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

there is grace in each and every syllable here and i am fortunate indeed to know your voice...to find some small sense of serenity in its exclamation...

Posted 6 Years Ago


1 of 2 people found this review constructive.

brilliantly subliminal and understated and evokative of the butterfly or dragonfly of lifes loves just out of reach and not knowing where to turn...we look but the energy to try again cannot be found...love this emily..

Posted 6 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

"Hands wide open
and waiting."

I believe that in this gesture ... was your prayer. The very fact that you felt an emptiness and knew that it was not good ... your prayer.

Posted 6 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Being human means experiencing... this. Sometimes we recover our selves.

Take care,
Chris

Posted 6 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

I really like this ... the wistful quality of it - the kind of subverted dedication in it - it has a remote, lovely essence that suggests freedom under whatever pain is there.

Posted 6 Years Ago


Great job, Emily. You have expressed what I have felt a thousand times but, as a (former) pastor, could never admit. It is fresh, honest southern poetry. Love it.

Posted 6 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

praying isn't always words and you've illustrated that beautifully here. It's funny, when the heart is vacant, it's able to absorb so much more, even at a time when the mind sense can't.
A very serene write. Lovely.

Posted 6 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

another beautiful poem, Emily. Quite fantastic!

Posted 6 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Brilliant, I so adore the imagery in your poetry, particularly your communion with nature which is so exquisitely and sensitively drawn. I know that for many people being paralysed so you can't pray you will be harrowing in the extreme and you've capture brilliantly the intensity of that fear. I figure that what Fabian G.Franklin says is true "We all forget at times I think but when we truly need to remember, we will." I think that's true of all skills.

Posted 6 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.


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2679 Views
74 Reviews
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Shelved in 8 Libraries
Added on April 28, 2011
Last Updated on April 28, 2011
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Author

Emily B
Emily B

Richmond, KY



About
to the Lost Boys I am no Wendy; but my voice brings you back to me. And you sit around my feet, anxious for a story or a kiss. Listening to my words spinning adventures, like so much g.. more..

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