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I saw oxeye daisies on a grassy hill,
where a hound stopped, panting:  hot,

under the sun.  I heard the river hit the
rocks, as mating salmon swam upstream.

I sat on the shore—thinking of nothing.
My idle mind:  A playground for the devil?

I felt the breeze and smelled the
coming rain, bit off a piece of confidence,

shrieked at its pungency like a woman grown
insipid.  Awakening with sleep-encrusted

eyes, I entered into endless struggle—
yearning for any haven or hell, to rest in.


first published in Right Hand Pointing


“Time heals,” people often say. This is not true when it means that we will eventually forget the wounds inflicted on us and be able to live on as if nothing happened. That is not really healing; it is simply ignoring reality. But when the expression “time heals” means that faithfulness in a difficult relationship can lead us to a deeper understanding of the ways we have hurt each other, then there is much truth in it. “Time heals” implies not passively waiting but actively working with our pain and trusting in the possibility of forgiveness and reconciliation.