There But for the Grace

There But for the Grace

It could have happened.
It had to happen.
It happened sooner. Later.
Nearer. Farther.
It happened not to you.

You survived because you were the first.
You survived because you were the last.
Because you were alone. Because of people.
Because you turned left. Because you turned right.
Because rain fell. Because a shadow fell.
Because sunny weather prevailed.

Luckily there was a wood.
Luckily there were no trees.
Luckily there was a rail, a hook, a beam, a brake,
a frame, a bend, a millimeter, a second.
Luckily a straw was floating on the surface.

Thanks to, because, and yet, in spite of.
What would have happened had not a hand, a foot,
by a step, a hairsbreath
by sheer coincidence.

So, you’re here? Straight from a moment still ajar?
The net had one eyehole, and you got through it?
There’s no end to my wonder, my silence.
Listen
how fast your heart beats in me.

~by Wislawa Szymborska

I read this poem originally about seven months after 9-11. I rediscovered it again later in a book and found out that it was originally written about the Nazi occupation of Poland in WWII and the Holocaust. And I think that if I am still here despite the other things that befall my fellow man, there is a reason. God must have some things left for me to do. And if you are reading this, the same is true for you. Waste not a day.