There is a grace that rests in the underneath of things.
It peeks out in the shine of the maple outside
In her autumn conversings with sun.
And in the way that girl on the sidewalk laughs
At the life growing wild through the pavement.
It’s hidden within the blind man’s question
As he makes his way through these harsh urban streets
To pause at the corner of his ATM,
Where still he must ask me: which one?
It’s a sermon at 16th and Mission.
This man sees with senses most unknown to us,
And he touches our hearts with his humble reminder
To never get too big for questions.
As we wind our way through the wilds of this world
With our great courage and our hard-earned skill,
May we remember to pause, to ask, and to listen --
And let's laugh with the cracks in the pavement.