Category: forgiveness

Where I Found You

Taken when she was still trying to work while going through treatment for ovarian cancer.

In the early morning hours of January 3rd, 2015 my wife, Karen passed away from ovarian cancer. On this day, the eighth anniversary of her passing, I decided to repost this poem. While no relationship may be perfect, I’ve come to realize perfection is found in the things people share. Karen and I shared our love of dogs, so of course, in a dream, I met her as I walked the dogs, and one day I’ll meet her again, but when that happens, she’ll be the one walking all the dogs. 


I thought to find you on the path
between the heather patches.
You were not there.
I thought to find you along the roads 
from here to other places I traveled,
but there were no traces.
I thought to find you along the routes
where I walked the dogs.
Of course, there you were,
ready to laugh and say they loved you best--
as you always did.
Taking treats from your pocket,
you fed and petted them.
Looking up at me, you said I had more
grey than last you saw, but it didn’t look bad.
Your idea of a compliment, I know.
I killed the weeds of anger over things like that.
Now I must learn to trim back the hedges of grief.

Get electric hedge trimmers, you laughingly said.
Then whispered I should learn from the dogs 
and you’d meet me along the path
between the heather one day.
And that was all.
You were gone.

Tightrope

(Maria Spelterini crossing the Niagara gorge on a tightrope, 1876)
Image courtesy of
i.imgur.com



Since I drove right by it 

on my GPS selected route

on my way to dinner 

with friends,

I had to stop:



Here now— pulled over, paying reverence,

to time, youth, innocence, tragedy

When we loved each other 

in this home we made together.

 

Here— this moment of reverence paid

unlocks the door of a room 

where you are kept 

preserved in perfection,

untainted by guilt

by tragedy 

by the judgement 

I rendered upon you 

in my innocent ignorant self-righteousness

and so unleashed our tragedy upon us.



Now— could I travel that twisted high wire of time

back through the forty years 

yet keep the wisdom of lessons

learned of forgiveness and judgment—

we would be young lovers

starting out again

and I would gift

you treasures of ancient gods and goddesses—

olive oil, an olive tree to plant,

casks of rose water, 

roughly hewn amber, the mythic tears,

in which we could be captured.



I raise my head, turn my eyes to the road ahead,

locking the door to that place 

where you are kept

preserved in perfection:

Sitting in the window seat,

your head tilted to the light,

sunlight glistening off your copper color hair,

smile wide as you lift your drawing pad 
and pencil,

and begin to sketch,

your thin lovely hand floating 
in movement above the page.

There,I leave you once again,

As I drive away.







 

 

 

 

 

Endlessness

Image courtesy of Pexels.com

https://godoggocafe.com/2022/06/21/tuesday-writing-prompt-challenge-june-21-2022/

Todays prompt: Begin a poem with “endless”

Endless winds rustling

Through leaves baked a thin crisp green

By summer’s noon sun.



Endless wilting flowers

Reaping words of empty dust

Sands away meaning.



Endless hope sprouts blooms

In the dry cracked refuge of earth

A survival scented thing.

Freedom of Wings

Image is my own






Haunting seen
In darkening clouds
Of chrysalis dreams
Where wanting,
Where desiring,
Haunt seen
Cease existing--
In this capturing
No ring 
pierced through
Butterfly wings
Dripping still
From newly emerging
Dreams not tended.


	


	
	






	
	

		
Jacob’s Hip
	


	

		

maristmessenger.co.nz





https://sammiscribbles.wordpress.com/2020/11/14/weekend-writing-prompt-183-wrangle/












Wrangle words, twist defenses





Round heart and soul,





You need the bricks





Behind which





You hide, denying





the blackness all see





Of the hate you spit.










Remember Jacob’s hip





After wrestling with God.






	


	
	






	
	

		
Meditations on Forgiveness
	


	

		

Image courtesy of Pinterest














summer hot, humid


kills desire of sweetness


flowers forgiveness


 


falls decaying death


forgiveness dead leaves lifeless


blacken a gift heart


 


winter freezing ice


a cold weapon forgiveness


to cut the giver


 


spring new life begins


forgiveness lifeless, no seed


to plant, grow—never


 


The bird of flame rises


From the ashes in my chest—


Ash of forgiveness


Never given.


 
	


	
	






	
	

		
Heart and Soul
	


	

		






 Tell me a truth 
 of burning flames.
  
 Better yet,
 Chant me all the truth
 Of a holy rosary.
  
 Or would you whisper a truth
 Of a head on a silver platter.
  
 Perhaps, you’d like to
 Express the truth
 Of a dance through the city.
  
 Or act out the truth
 In the washing of your hands.
  
 Could you do all that,
 Plus destroy a temple or two,
 And it be the truth 
 Of your heart?
  
 I know you say it would
 But no bushes burn,
 No seas part,
 No lepers heal, 
 No dead rise
 When you know nothing
 Of your own heart and soul. 

	


	
	






	
	

		
Trails
	


	

		
Set out years ago

Dropped breadcrumbs

Some no bigger than dust particles

Of the soul

Along the roads and paths

Thought I’d find my way back,

There’d be time

There’d be years

Be months

Weeks

Days

Seconds

Left before the sand

Absconded with the hourglass

To find the trail of dust and crumbs

Sweep and pour them

Back into the soul

Add a few ingredients

Create once more

From the beginning


 


But birds and squirrels

Feasted on the leavings

And I’ve no desire

To return to where I started.


 


 

	


	
	






	
	

		
History
	


	

		
history image


Spun out from the centrifuge

Twisted in helix meaning

Strands entwined, twisted back

Stretching toward history within heritage

Search through the montage of time

Sift through pounds of truth and lies

For a few ounces of purity

Measured out within the mess

The now was the past

Where to walk

We travel back

On twisted helix roads

To the selves we were

So very long ago

And learn

The future braided

In the past

With the now

And made us whole

	


	
	






	
	

		
Truth
	


	

		
What truth is there but this?

Contained within the sand, wind,

An inky blue sapphire sea

Watching whales and seals play

As they sing their songs of joy

I listen

Their language so foreign to me

A vocabulary of rejoicing

In all that God has made

I can neither interpret nor define

Within this human construct

That it seems God forgot

Yet I seek to know

What they say

Of love

Of grief

Of play

Of joy