There But For The Grace

It could have happened.

It had to happen.

It happened sooner. Later.

Nearer. Farther.

It happened not to you.

You survived because you were the first.

You survived because you were the last.

Because you were alone. Because of people.

Because you turned left. Because you turned right.

Because rain fell. Because a shadow fell.

Because sunny weather prevailed.

Luckily there was a wood.

Luckily there were no trees.

Luckily there was a rail, a hook, a beam, a brake,

a frame, a bend, a millimeter, a second.

Luckily a straw was floating on the surface.

Thanks to, because, and yet, in spite of.

What would have happened if not a hand, a foot,

by a step, a hairsbreadth

by sheer coincidence.

So you’re here? Straight from a moment still ajar?

The net had one eyehole, and you got through it?

There’s no end to my wonder, my silence.

Listen

how fast your heart beats in me.

Wislawa Szymborska

Decades ago, when Hastings was the place I’d visit after dropping my daughter off at school and before heading in for the lunch shift…

When Oprah was still a bright shining light and had recently launched her magazine…

I found this poem in the pages of one of the first editions.

It danced on the pulse of my heart in a way few other poems had and so I cut it out of the magazine and put it in my wallet.

I carried that little piece of paper around with me until just a few years ago when I decided I should maybe put it somewhere safe before it crumbled to dust. In the end, I decided to add it into my Grimoire in my Samhain (Halloween) section so I would be reminded of it each year as the veil thins between this world and the next.

This world is wide and wild and devastatingly painful and any one of us might not be here right now for any number of itty bitty reasons and yet here we are, fighting like hell, doing our damnedest to lift each other up, walking each other home.

Every single one of us is magic. Don’t ever forget it.

Thanks to, because, and yet, in spite of…

There’s no end to my wonder…

Onward,

Melissa