a knock in pitched light!
Do I long to open such door?
Every year he comes before,
I resolutely ignore.
His desire to beg for what is mine to give,
a soul will not rest without these two words:
I stand where I’ve stood since death called his name;
A soul buried in ground seeped in such shame.
Does he truly long to receive said words?
Or is it simply a task to avoid death’s relentless abhor?
Why do I desire to hold such hostage;
it only applies weight to a heart already in bondage?
I open the door to stare into darkness;
he did not wait for me to cleanse his tarnish?
Did I wait too long to forgive this man;
finally, ready to extend my hesitant hand?
“I’m okay,” I whisper into thick air
"Don’t let my name be the brand on your despair.”
The air became thin, and smelt of rich earth.
I immediately knew it had been cleansed in rebirth.
Forgiveness is for all to receive;
and doing so releases us who by its weight do grieve.
That includes you, me, she, and, yes, even he;
for us to give it freely is God’s eternal plea.
Do not fret in your justified pain,
for He desires it too for your heart's gain.
Gifting it never validates deeds as undone,
it simply offers all His children to rest above.
The scars of misdeed will always remain,
but scars are just reminders of times we cried in The Lord’s name.