Harm Done

When you choose to change what you chose to be

Years of tears, hurt, pain and suffering ago,

Don't be surprised by the look in the eyes

Of the one’s you figuratively killed

With the intent of your literal words

Lacerating their hearts, stabbing their souls,

Hell bent on making them suffer for acts

That you authored, for facts that you faltered,

Too proud to be weak, too weak to be kind,

Unable to forgive them for being,

For their unforgivable condition

Demanding your unconditional love, 

Requiring supreme self sacrifice

Made not, not having a Self to offer.

Now “Spiritually Reborn”, you've shed

Many tears and thoughts inspired by hate’s spite,

Thoughts that others felt despite you draping

Them in velvet, embroidered with sarcasm

That stained, tattered unholiest fabric 

Adorning their suits of imprisonment.

How dare you think that you can undo thoughts

Simply by thinking about how and why you think,

Thinking of thoughts betters have thought as yours,

Thinking that you should be forgiven now

That you think thoughts ARE deeds, that they carry 

Intent, like a mother does child, the seed

Germinating the future’s pasture

So that the sowers reap their just rewards.


Scream the souls you’ve maimed; you hear them always

When you least expect to, when you are proud

Of the progress you've made as a Pilgrim

On the Spiritual Path, patiently(?)

Shuffling two forward, falling one back.

You hear them when choring, doing dishes,

Thinking about precepts such as cleanliness

Being next to Godliness, that small tasks

Must be done with a humble yet happy

Earnestness worthy of the most awesome

Responsibilities even though they're not.

You hear them when morning meditating 

On creation’s beauty, on yourself’s Self,

On how you with The Father can be One.

You hear them at close of day when praying

For your sins, for having thoughts unworthy

Of being a Being of light and love.

The gnaw of being exposed as a fake,

For being impotent, irresolute

In your selfish pursuit of selflessness,

Ebbs and flows, the in then ex halation 

Of your breath reminding you of that which

You are desperately trying to release.

“I’m so sorry!” really doesn't help them.

Nor do the platitudes you love to love,

Like “It's not what happens to you in life

That defines you, it is how you respond.”

Like “Wherever you go, there you are.”

Like “If you think you're the Prince of Persia,

You're the Prince of Persia (your delusion).”

Like your least favorite on evil acts:

“Remorse has no value, but you must make 

Good for harm done.”  Direct reparation

Is the most difficult; easier for

A needle’s eye allowing the passage of....

A camel has two humps, three if global warmed,

Only one if a dromedary quite

Ordinary, yet all store within them

The past that will fuel their future like your

Thoughts, words and deeds residing in

The Cosmic Ether, accessible to those attuned

To hear and view the vibrational tomes

You have added to the Universe,

That only you can edit, since they are

“Read-Only” stamped by the Head Librarian.

But, if you believe those that commune with

“The Other Side”, time and space blur into

A continuum of care, or its lack,

Where yesterday's “facts”can be rewritten,

Within life’s daily Groundhog Day routine.

This is what you’re banking on, redemption

From past malfeasance, forgiveness from those 

You bankrupted by not caring to care

Prior to your Awakening to life’s

Fiduciary responsibilities,

Where love is the only currency worth

Accumulating, and which can daily 

Compound, yielding bonds that endure and grow,

With interest, by acts of loving kindness.


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