The Art Of Forgiveness
Aug 10, 2023
The Art of Forgiveness
Or Swimming Uphill
When the coffers are rifled,
cash palace crumbled
and lotteries lost..
and the magpies
and currawong still sing
on summer balconies
where the bougainvillea
once grew,
I wonder, what is left?
These familial friendships
fluttering in wind
like tattered prayer flags,
dyes bleached and pale,
crinkled and strained off
their ties and sturdy posts.
You can see these on a horizon,
over a ditch,
maybe in the distance
upon a mountainside,
(Fixed we always thought,
like Donne’s school compass)
base buried in a sturdy
ancestral cairn
barricading against
Cork elements and gales
showing the bone
and nature of actions
and inequities disguised
we wish to avoid.
The sky is bruised this morning.
Each day I wake and hope
for it to burst forth a lemon
as bright as salmon pink.
Remind me sun,
of rivers and
tributaries and the miracle
of fish that still have
the heart and power
to search and find course -
turning musculature and
helical spine towards
that stream -
the fierce and yet forgiving path -
that leads us to swim
through gushing fools’ gold brooks,
again and again and again
uphill one last time…
to the very end.
Camilla Slater © 2023. All Rights Reserved.
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