It took five days, but at last I thought of you, old friend,
friend I loved and wanted to trust, friend
who burned every bridge I tried to build between us,
who turned gratitude and apology to smoke, to ash,
who taught me that love is not enough—a lesson
I never wanted to learn, which is why I am grateful
you helped me to learn it.
No one gets through life without injury.
Still, I wanted to believe that a kiss and forgiveness
could make things better, but some things
are better left broken. Thank you for teaching me
that all passes, that even without a road, without
a bridge, without a track, the train of time
finds a way to keep moving, eventually
speeding by so fast that what seemed
unable to be overcome becomes a blur
and that hope gives way to something even
more beautiful: saying yes to what is real.
So though you will never know it, I forgive you
for your scissored words and sharpened
silences. I forgive you for giving up on love,
for saying no, goodbye. It takes almost no effort now.
Even uranium has a half-life—albeit 4.5 billion years.
How much sooner forgiveness has come. More like a lawn
that went unwatered and dried to brown, to dust,
but then when seasonal rains returned, turned green.
Yes, thriving and lush, here is the new lay of the land,
ready for anyone to arrive. Anyone. Even you.
Oh how I love this, Rosemerry. You’ve distilled so much into this poem.
“…but somethings are better left unbroken.” “…hope gives way to something/even more beautiful: saying yes to what is real.” “Even uranium has a half-life…”
And, once again, an exquisite powerful turn: “Yes, thriving and lush, here is the new lay of the land,/ready for anyone to arrive. Anyone. Even you.”
All these, and they’re just what’s on the surface. Beneath, so much else going on. I’ll have to spend more time with this poem. So lucky, I am.
Thank you dear man, so many hugs to you. I know you struggled with this assignment, too … geesh. a doozy.
This makes my heart sing with gratitude that there are folks like you in the world who speak so truly about what is and what is possible.
Joan, thank you. It was a doozy to face it, but then it was a relief.
Beautiful poem, and I just wanted to tell you that this poem has fortuitously been published at a time when I need to forgive somebody who has hurt me (again). We have had our issues before and I forgave her because holding on to hurt and anger only hurt and angered me, so I let it go. But as you state, some things are better left broken, and sometimes we have to let go even though there’s always a place in our heart for that person.
Thank you, Katie, for responding, and for letting me know I am not the only one on this path. It feels rather lonely until it doesn’t … until someone like you reaches back and says, “I am here, too …” sometimes we have to let go. thank you, grace to you
well done!
thank you, friend. whew. a toughie. and then it wasn’t.