When heaven and earth collide
sometimes heaven takes all
unless earth holds on harder
from permission to not yet secede.
The close calls of collision
they rouse the drowsiness
toes inch near the line but no further
footsteps turn opposite and run.
The Maxima barely misses
cancer digs almost too deep
oak topples the fortunate direction
hot temptation releases in time’s nick.
Peek over the edge and kneel
thankful for the one that got away
this one comes from heaven too
when grace and flesh collide.
* * *
Thankful that the too-close tornado in Auburn yesterday missed my daughter’s home (and prayerful for those whose home it did hit below).
We’re closer to the edge than we think, yes?