A Spirit Glitch

I go to make a sandwich

of tomatoes, fresh spinach,

mustard,—all on oatmeal bread.

I start to brush mustard on 

the bread but knock with my knife 

the jar lid, propelling it 

across the countertop on

its way to the kitchen floor . . .

but before it gets to ground 

I grab for the lid, it lands 

squarely in my hands.  I think:

is this luck, or sign of fine

eye-hand coordination 

for an old foolish man, or

a blessing in the spirit?

Later in the day, after

mowing the lawn, I turn to

laundry.  While taking the lid

off the detergent bottle,

I drop the top and it rolls

ten meters away.  As I 

go to pick up the lid, I

notice liquid dripping down

my trousers—which need washing

now, so in the wash they go.

My earlier quandary  

returns.  Before I return,

I feel this churning . . . chiming, 

Grace is all, in all, for all 

embodying spirit’s heart.