The Convicting Experience – May Grant


By May Cornelia Grant

In middle age, in the midst of adversity, I found the gift of faith.
It seemed to be waiting, as if prepared from the beginning.
Above me, dark-stained ceiling beams cast deepening shadows.
Stair railings add another barrier in a set of angles.
Overhead curtains drawn closed above my sofa.
The scene appears: An open-sided shadowbox, a darkened stage.

I lower my head.
Slowly, out of the dusky shadows, a divine gift arrives–my first real prayer:
“God, are You there?”
It is at once a question and acknowledgment.
Then, more confidently, I announce, “I’m your daughter.”
The response enters without hesitation.

Without words, a wave of sound swells into freight train roar.
The power of a lifetime’s desires–
longing, craving, yearning, needing, wanting, hoping, wishing,
entreating, begging, pleading, demanding, anticipating–
all the unconscious, undiscovered, unrealized needs met at once, in a single moment, infinitely expanding.

It’s my very own Big Bang, so far beyond comprehension
that this poor report still wreaks its own attack on my gaze.

May Cornelia Grant has been writing all her life, non-professionally. Her articles have appeared in numerous small magazines and newspapers. This poem is an excerpt from her Lenten Meditation on Wednesday afternoon, March 3, 2010, at Wilson Chapel in Central Church.

Posted in Poet Laureate.