Michael E. Newman


Mike sent me these poems recently in an email, saying he was including "a little blurb I wrote for last month's theme: grace. Don't know whatever else it is about."

I AWOKE


Yesterday I Awoke
Yesterday I awoke a fish, and craved the sea I could not see.
Today I awoke and saw the same sea
as that in which I live and move and have my being,
and I saw that it always was, and is, and evermore shall be.
I awoke to find that that which I crave and sometimes cannot see surrounds me always and forever,
even in my blindness and insanity.
Each creature of the sea is its child,
and though it sometimes feels abandoned,
it is nurtured by that which surrounds it.

Today I Awoke
Today I awoke to mid-day work and sun,
and could see nothing that was not a gift of grace.
Tomorrow I may wake in despair, for although it still remains,
I may not see its hidden face.
If so, then I shall sit in silence, and be still until I know
That it is there in every breath and nowhere did it not go.
Until the film lifts from my eyes, and I can see again,
I shall believe in an endless and eternal sea,
a sea of grace in which I swim

                 —Michael E. Newman    

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