The Taste of Grace

Thoughts fall from grace and I try to catch them
like raindrops upon my tongue
so I can repeat them to myself over and over again
until they become beliefs I can hold in my mind...
and awaken from this world that I have dreamed alive.

The few that manage to land just so, tease me to continue to live

awkwardly arched with head thrown back, tongue extended, and eyes fluttering
against the many misses that vastly outnumber the hits.

But oh, the taste of grace, this rain upon my thirsty tongue,

sweet nectar that it is, keeps me dancing this foolish dance
amid straight backed onlookers, running with mouths closed tight,
eyes wide, staring at the foolish woman spinning and turning
as she dares to taste the taste of grace.