Through morning sun the sound of jackhammer on stone:
Gasson Hall under concerted planned regulated gracious attack
In the few yards between here and there birds sing
Runners run, dogs walk, greens sway in the June breeze.
And I muse:
In Afghan villages this morning violence and death prowls
Men and women who walked these streets,
And those who never have.
In mid-America tornadoes will swirl mayhem this week,
And earthquake in parts seen and unseen.
The hammer that breaks the stone, the gun,
The storm, the roiling earth:
Are not these all at last the outward form of grace,
Tools in the hand of One who wills to heal
To take down and rebuild
By whatever means necessary?
Did not Flannery say “all human nature
vigorously resists grace because
grace changes us and
the change is painful”?
The double-edged sword is wielded at
Every moment in every life.
Enjoy the assault.
It’s not only the best you can do.
It’s what you’re for.
(J McGinty, 6/25/10)