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Posts Tagged ‘forgiveness’

The only reason we don’t open our hearts and minds to other people is that they trigger confusion in us that we don’t feel brave enough or sane enough to deal with.
—Pema Chodron

The hands and tongue
would make quick work
of forgiveness, rushing

to shake hands, or to touch
the other’s feet, or to taste these words
I am sorry, please, forgive me,

but the body will not be hurried,
will grieve and shed and wander many
rooms of confusion and courage

before the real apology
rises in its own time
in its own way, perhaps doe-eyed

and unstartled, with such sweet
fragrance, with such compassion
you reach also for your own face

and say, I forgive you.

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I am not fit to tend that garden yet.
Though I walk by it every day. Though it
is on my property. Though there’s a thriving
patch of shoulds sprung up around the fence.

The gate is twined in bindweed, green and dense.
The rows are long-since overgrown with grass,
oregano gone viral, clover, spears
of mullein, dandelion rosettes. I’ve grown

familiar with neglect, at times forget
it’s mine to cultivate. But there it is.
Last week, I stepped inside the disarray,
took one long look at shamed disorder, tried

to see a place to start, and quickly left.
I am not ready for that garden yet.

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It never looks like we think it will.
I imagine flowers, of course,
or an open field, or a single plum
in the center of a bowl.
But today, forgiveness is a scrap of net,
mostly hole, with frayed ends
and matted with white paint.
It has no apparent use.
It holds nothing, it comes
with no instructions.

I had thought it would serve me.
I had thought it would make me
feel better or get me further along
than where I was. I thought
I could make it happen.

And here is forgiveness,
a featherweight shred,
something I might have overlooked
if it hadn’t been placed
in my hands.

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