Goodness

goodness

When the bombshell drops

(the debris of normality ricocheting in all directions)

there, in the quiet clearing

space is made

for the goodness of others.

The face of God in a tub of chilli,

or homemade pizza, the batch of brownies,

a posy of sweet blossoms

and a paper-chain of prayers,

gifts, offers of help, meals, visits, kindness.

Hope.

I never knew the scope of this before.