I do not know the
Pre-requisites for
Sainthood but I knew I
Was in the presence
Of one;
O she did not gaze
At me in a
Saintly way,
Or have a halo
Around her head.
She made demands
Of me that made
Me Angry,
Took my blinders
Away and insisted
I see,
Stripped away
My excuses and
Left me exposed
And trembling.
Refused to
Answer my questions
By turning them back
To me.
And listened serenely
To my rages and sorrows
And was wholely –
Holy extant
In each moment,
Receiving and
Giving with
Hands open and
Cupped upward,
Grace and mercy
Flowing freely.
In that burning presence
I took off my shoes
And stood on
Sacred ground.
I was blessed.

I was blessed.