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By the Grace of God

My heart’s been shattered. I’ve been beaten and tossed.

Like a tiny pebble drifting to the bottom of a pond.

I’ve fallen from Heaven

and I’ve walked through Hell.

But yet I’m pressing on!

You know how metaphysically

they say one’s on the edge?

Well that’s where I ended up

I’d walked that bridge

instead of jumping to my death

it’s as if I had grown wings

And I flew

I did not wish to die

nor did I yearn to kill!

I simply couldn’t take no more

and surely couldn’t feel

Somewhere in that transformation

I’d realize what was real

false pride layered on my mind

would start to peel

It layeth at my feet

and without it

I would heal

My smile became genuine

My laughter was a thrill

My spirit felt like ice on fire

burning with a chill!

My cup was overfloweth

though I’d yet to have my fill

I’m looking to the future

with these hands

what will I build?

and moving with a love

by the grace of God I wield.

📬

These stories arrive by mail.

Every month, a physical envelope arrives at your door, postmarked from San Quentin Village, California. Inside, you will find original artwork, writing, and recipes from real contributors, along with a personal letter from me, Diane Kahn, founder of Humans of San Quentin, about the people who made them. You read it. You keep it.

Every piece comes from someone serving a sentence. Every piece reminds you they are so much more than that.

📬 Join the Mail Club

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