Dyxlesia

Yex, like a coded xes dream,

thoxe xynchronicitiex and joyx

that bump friendx together

on a New York xtreet,

or thoxe unespected accidentx

which allow ux to esperience

the world, if only for a moment,

through otherx' eyex

before returning to our own

xtiffening bos of a body--

we're neither blexxed

nor curxed. We are. The bext,

maybe, ix to accept the nest

great inxtant of grace, which,

if we weren't xo buxy xeeking it,

might be greeting ux now.

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