Growing in Grace

fireworks

Little girls dancing with sparklers

imitating fireflies in the night

while little boys played with lighters

impersonating men in charged

as they launch colors to the sky.

I recall my own children

playing together not long ago

in our yard.

Memories fly out of me like rockets

shooting to the evening sky.

I look out to the mountains.

This corner of the world

called for me,

allowing a safe place for growth and celebration.

I hear country music playing in the distance,

the earth welcoming the lighted sky art,

and strangers gathering as one

in awed of the show.

I am growing in grace.

It’s been a while,

perhaps several lives,

but I am here in humbleness

dancing to the music of children

running around the lake.

A man sits behind me

snoring softly to the buzzing of mosquitoes,

slapping arms and legs,

joining the smell of bug repellent, smoke, and sweat.

I have made it home.

Not quite what I imagined,

much better than my dreams,

I smile as I touch my new skin

remembering the old one

that never quite fit me.

My sons and daughters not all here,

yet I know they have their own lives,

their own celebrations.

This is now my time

to grow and be a child.

I am the sparkle and the rockets

that shoot light to the moon…

I am my own fourth of July.

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12 thoughts on “Growing in Grace

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