Saturday, May 21, 2005

Memories, like ghosts.

Ghosts by Alf Whyte by Photobucket.comMemories, like ghosts
haunt me
In the dark hours
when silence surrounds me.
Times of pain,
times of sorrow,
hard times
that do their best to confound me.

Old hurts, like cracks in a foundation,
Smack themselves across my imagination
like a wet towel upside my face.

Why do I go to that place
where they sting me,
like yellow jackets
when you step on their hole?
Why torture my soul with things
that are long since past?

What is the balm that can heal me,
What is the oinment to soothe the
longing of what might have been?

Where are the kisses of a friend,
the kindness that my aching soul longs for?
Is there kindness anymore?
If so where? When? Who? How?
What do I do, now that memories have
brought your face to my mind?

But forgiveness is possible, is preferable
to the angry sting of memories unresolved.
So you are absolved.
I let you go
and wish you well.

Debts are paid.
Freedom granted.
All accounts are settled.
May you have a good life,
my one time friend.

1 comment:

Cathy Robinson said...

Wow David,
What a terrific poem. You are so right about memories. They can truly be haunting to both the mind and soul. It is during those times of recollection that I often find God revealing past hurts and I know that He desires for me to forgive so that I may be releasd from that place of bitterness. A painful yet neccesary process to be sure.