Morning healing, Lake Michigan. Forgive me.

Morning healing, Lake Michigan. Forgive me.

Icy water touches my toes
as I bury my heels
into thick, wet sand.
Ancient, soft wind
paints shivers down my spine
while the paprika sun
rises in my eyes, opening them
to the endless cycle of earth.
Thoughts run back to last night
and I am not proud. distinctly.
The gulls whisper in my ear
songs of friendship,
and I am grateful.
Yet regret grips at my heart
as I think about the childish way
in which I behaved.
I draw pictures in my mind
of the words I will utter in apology.
But there has never been
a masterpiece made from sorries,
and so words seem dull.
And yet just as the blue above me
becomes unmistakably royal
in it’s right
against the now honeyed sun,
I am unmistakably sorry.
And if she happened to be
hearing the whispers
of the same wind as I,
her ears would be filled with
Verzeihung, bitte.
Forgive me, please.
A pensive note has been filed
in that wanty part of my brain
that reminds me to reserve
my selfish requests to
pain of grander significance.
My mistakes are mine to own,
and excuses have no place in the world.
And I can only hope
on this learning jouney of mine
that she loves & forgives me
as I fumble in the future
as no doubt I will.

j