the wash that happens in the wake

the wash that happens in the wake
of passions leading to mistake
will fast define the way we see
ourselves, within our misery

but do not view yourself as such,
though others use that portal —
for human is as human does,
and we are merely

mortal

four acts of clemency

he realized he wasn’t
who he’d made out he was,
but thought it was worth
trying to be that guy
anyway

she understood that
the shallow criteria
she accused others of having for her
came from her

i recognized that
the many good things that
i am not
don’t obviate whatever good
i am

you discerned that
making mistakes yesterday
doesn’t mean
you need make the same ones again
tomorrow

What Time Has Filtered

Because forgiveness never means filtering the truth. – Owen

What time has filtered, let the heart see clearly,
Let truth shine through our few remaining days.

You’ve asked me for forgiveness in this sorrow,
And say you know you’ve failed me many ways:
But as the waves, who find themselves receding
Come back to brush the shore — the ocean’s kiss —

I come back to you now within this rhythm,
For faultless I am not in all of this.
What clemency I have is yours for taking,
I ask you for remission of my own,

Not filtering the truth, but giving cadence
To secret disbeliefs we each have known.
We hear the rolling waves, and stand in silence
The wind, it careless blows your chestnut hair —

We’ve taken off the filter of dissembling,
To go with pain and truth, we two, from there

“Until We Have Forgiven Someone’s Darkness…”

Prompted by a post by Lori Carlson over at the Rattling Bones blog.

Forgiveness.

Is that weakness?  Is it glory?

Acceptance.

Is that strength, or giving in?

Love.

Is that the fool’s end of the story?
Or where, for wisdom,
We must each
Begin?

= = = = =

(Inspired by the quote below / this prompt)

“Until we have seen someone’s darkness, we don’t really know who they are. Until we have forgiven someone’s darkness, we don’t really know what love is.”
― Marianne Williamson

Flowers, Forgive

It was just my time…

Azaleas

Flowers, forgive my lack of grace.
I stumble most everyplace –
Out here by the garden wall
It was just my time to fall.

But your strength I’ll not disturb
Nor your blooming essence curb —
Flowers, forgive me, if you can:
I am just a clumsy man