by Liam

Some kneel only when the ground gives way,

when the night has chewed through every excuse

and the self stands stripped of its bright disguises.

There, in the ache where dignity dissolves,

a moment waits

not to accuse you,

but to breathe warmth into thy fractured name.

Others climb their days toward sunlit hills,

arms full of answered prayers,

And unfulfilled dreams.

Yet at the summit, dazzled by the view,

they mistake the panorama for the source

and bow to the feeling instead of the cognition.

What once felt given begins to feel earned,

and gratitude thins becoming ownership.

God does not favor the broken over the blessed.

It is not sin that opens the door,

nor success that seals it shut.

It is the posture of your heart

whether it bends,

whether it listens,

whether it remembers it is not the maker of its own light.

The sacred often enters sideways:

through the cracks of failure,

through the humbling of joy,

through the moments when certainty dissolves 

and wonder slips back in.

May you be saved from this arrogance of arrival

and the despair of collapse.

May you learn to recognize the sacred 

both in the bruise and in the blessing.

And may you never forget

that grace is not found at the bottom or the top,

but in the turning…

that quiet inward recognition 

where the soul finally stops performing

and allows itself to be recognized.

Remembered by the consciousness we carry.