The realm of heaven is like yeast
that a woman took and mixed in
with three bushels of flour
until all of it was leavened.
—Matthew 13.33
In this moment
light is hidden.
In the person before me
even as words rise from bed
and look for their clothes
already an ancient blessing abides,
a story of grace seeks its form.
In every suffering,
infected with light,
a dawn unfolds,
a great flowing forth.
Even the greatest injustice
is leavened with grace.
The things of this world are brittle,
but light is always becoming.
Its beginning was before the mind
and there is no end to it.
—July 25, 2017