If you haven't already done so, please check out Brannon's post. For those of you in the arts, the article to which he refers is definitely worth printing and filing away. Sorry I'm a little late posting this, but I've only just now read the article myself.

"The mind--no rest,
deserving none,"
He hisses lightly in my ear.

"Not enough.
Your work.
Your pain.
Never enough.
No rest.
Deserving none."

The doubt, now birthed and grown,
waltzes in my mind,
flirting with every beautiful thought
till she blushes and flees,
or else succombs to fornicating self-love
and sings most lustily
"Work harder
Work harder
Work harder

EARN."

The story of my week, this fight to keep from "earning." Love. A smile from the stranger. A pat on the back from myself. An e-mail from a friend. Acceptance from God. Grace. A laundry-list of can't-be-earned items. It even says that at the top of the list: "Can't be earned." But do I ever try.

Physically, that means: Steph goes to chiropractor. Chiropractor makes small talk and "fixes" Steph. Steph feels better. Steph goes back to working too hard. Steph feels not better. Steph goes to chiropractor. ad infinitum. A snail of a learner am I. But grace abounds for all. For me. For the one who would prostitute the gift by payment.

Grace led my roving feet
To tread the heavenly road;
And new supplies each hour I meet,
While pressing on to God.

Grace taught my soul to pray
And made mine eyes o’erflow;
’Twas grace which kept me to this day,
And will not let me go.

This is supposed to be Patriotic-Happy-America-Day.
But for the first time in my life, no fireworks.
I have a rather troubling headache.
Disconsolate,
I wander outside to pick blackberries.

He comes to me,
the evening's first firefly,
out of the thorns of the bush.
Delicate wings
unsheathed from the day's armour
unsnagged by the day's thorns.
He hovers there
above my hand.
I wait a moment.
He creates Light.
Flutters in and out-out around-away.

I tiptoe,
don't ask me why,
to a tree
and clutch my little Japanese bowl of berries
with two hands.
A veil of floating lights
rises from the rain-moist ground
and glitters in the twilight.

ka-BOOM!
Neighbor kids and fireworks.
Noisy, neon green,
Las Vegas pink, smelly
booming lightsound.
Crashing, thrashing ash
into the sky
and pounding sound
into the head.
I almost drop my bowl of Japan and berries.

At least the fireflies still dance.