With Grace
I ask my sister for MercyShe looks at me with Grace,
The darkness of her history
The beauty in her face,
I say, "Sister I am drowning, and the island is afar."
Says she, "My Son the sky is only an ocean so swim to my star."
Sometimes she looks at me with such sidereal sidelong musing, takes
My heart with the wonders of her Art, the world of difference she makes,
Me ask my sister for Mercy
The beauty of her face
The darkness in her history
Looks through to me with Grace . . .
Poetry by Chaucer Whethers
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Written on 2015-11-22 at 17:10
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