Forgiveness is the water on the horizon,
and we’re the pilgrims in the desert
who cannot possibly walk there.
Tied up tight,
revenge is a hot little bundle
we hug to our chest.
We are plagued with hurt;
the betrayal, the murder,
the verbal barbs, the abandonment
the lack of love, whatever.
We have been robbed
and god almighty it hurts.
Our pain is the one sure thing
and someone has to pay.
We drag ourselves on our way
burdened with what will not sustain us.
Anger warms the belly for a while,
righteous justice can fire the mind,
self-pity burns inside.
On this most barren of trails
grace falls like rain,
a deep benediction.
Even here, forgiveness can blossom
like a delicate desert rose.