REPENTANCE

I view my life and see
the wounding errors I have made;
I am distraught.
I shut my eyes that they may disappear.
My inner broom attempts to sweep them
under rocks and tangled shrub.
Lost memory lets me forget so much . . . .
but not my hurtful acts..

When I can clearly see the wrong that I have done,
folding quickly to the ground,
I collapse and feel a death.
Lying flat out on the earth, immobile,
Reaching for the depths of my humiliation,
I know I must begin again . . . .
From the beginning.

Confess? Oh yes, but not to all.
To someone trusted, to a journal,
to a god, but mostly to myself:
Say it Say it all Call out loud,
with not a soul around.
Then resolve to make amends ~
where amends-making can be . . . . .

I call for self-forgiving; crucial
for releasing me to start anew. . . .
I lie there on the earth,
letting my repentance
Flow throughout me like a flooding stream.
Then, with a splash, I start to stand,
to open up my heart,
while slowly straightening up ~
as in a process, not a single move.
I brush away the drops of damp that cling,
attempting to wipe clean the slate of great mistakes,

I am repenting ~
a familiar act ~ always searching
for the lift of a rebirth.
Would that I could do this once for all
Or, better yet, omit the acts that so offend.
Whenever that seems possible.
Yet, as I learn to be less harsh against all others,
in repentance, I become less harsh
against myself;
and then each time, remorse is less a burden.
Thus I finish with new spirit,
fresh-cut goals,
And gratitude ~ for life-become-renewed.

Niki Davis