Upstream, the grace of the calling
Cast down the lane of faith
Inalienable line
The awakening seed.
Planted in the soil
Of the Beyond-Time.
Nostalgia without object
Anchored in the Beyond-Space
Of a central plexus.
Downstream, the grace of liquidity
And the forgetting of whys,
Out of all systemic ponds
Living a larger life, the true life
A Spirit of Great Freedom Blowing
In the center, the grace of observation,
Inner movements,
A serene collapse of volatile directions
The Light of Immobility
From all eternity.
Notes & Silence 
« Grace » is another word I tend to avoid. From a Christian background, it smacks too much of false humility in the face of presumed divine condescention. A failure to take responsibility and look to the spark of the divine within.
To you, it may have other connotations.
Perhaps I would say, rather, « I hear the call of the spirit; I seek the goal of that spirit, and I am observed of the spirit; the spirit with which I am one, and which, therefore, is mine. »
Perhaps I might say something else – but I have yet to determine what.
Perhaps the spirit speaks in silence.
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