She scraped her knees on the promised land,and washed the blood from her bullet-proof plan,
and said, “this grace may not be who I am,
but I’ll carry it with me,
through my winnings and woundings,
it will become my stride,
holding on the fray, letting go the pride,
and through it all -
joyful this ride,
as I carry it with me."
Text by Jodi Hills
