Lose Your Grip

A deep peace slips past our names.
You may claim it for the Earth,
Or a wise thought you had once.

You may say that it’s God’s grace.
(Grace is a soul of its own,
No need for God to own it.)

I’d say that I can taste it,
Sense it as calm in my bones,
Which are known to crack and ache,

But it’s not quite what’s felt, seen,
Or heard. No, I can’t taste it.
It’s—it’s when. I lose my grip.