No depth of love, no grace of forgiveness
will ever alter the look on his face, the
expression burned into the marrow of
my memory.
When he turned to me, even before the
last note of the rooster's cry, there was
no frown of anger. Disappointment did
not register in his eyes, nor the reproof
of one superior to the other.
He simply gazed upon my trembling
shame as I stumbled, trying to
run into the darkness of
my betrayal.
The passing years have not healed the
wound in my heart. I bear it, even
though I know his love is without limit
and his mercy restores life.
Perhaps I need this dark memory
in order to live his life in place
of my own. The light is
so much brighter when held
against the darkness.
I carry my shame, not as a badge
of self-pity, but as an offering
I place at his feet each day, an
assurance for my soul that as I
am loved, so must I love.
As I have been seen, so must I see.
My penance exacts a heavy price,
made bearable by a tomb that
no stone can close.
-
Author:
DesertWords (
Offline) - Published: March 31st, 2021 12:41
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 52
Offline)
Comments6
a true write of art, and a pleasure to read.
Thank you very much
Lovely to read great sense of words
I appreciate your comment
👍
Appreciate the encouragement
Amazing poem - full of so much meaning!
Thank you very much for your comment
Good write with very meaningful words.
Andy
Thanks, Andy, for your comment.
wonderful imagery and depth of vulnerability
a good write
(thank you for inspiring my little reply)..
'though if a tomb remains open
however drained the occupant and rendered incapable
of self-salvaging feats of escape
hope remains, someone may choose to play the hero
and revive, what limitless treasure
is still left to salvage, in your poetry's pulsing beacon
even if that someone
is a mirror's reflection of belated: self-worth realisation'
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