I have many people to forgive and I suppose

there are many more who must forgive me. I do not know if

they have for

forgiveness is a one way street in which one walks blindly

as a theologian

i must know everything about


must know how to do it

such as surely I know

I must forgive seventy times seven and before I pray I

must forgive them so that God may forgive me and if I confess

my sins

God will forgive them and if

I do not forgive

then God wont forgive


I am unproficient.

what does forgiveness feel like?

is it to be found in the forgetting of hurts or

when you can talk about betrayal without emotion

in a conversational tone

over coffee or

cake perhaps or

is forgiveness in the remembering of only good

about the person who insulted you betrayed you or neglected you or who

used you or

forgot you existed at all

you may never know if they forgive

you for whatever you may have

done that you do not know

anything about or did

in ignorance

forgiveness may be in the going forward

or the moving on from

it is the flower found in

pardon and

absolution exoneration



clemency mercy


is forgiveness a warm feeling does

it bring a smile or

does it happen without you

trying or

thinking it into being

are there boundaries in

forgiving when somebody does

the same hurt over

and over

and over

again is it in the walkingaway forever the

letting go


perhaps it is in the deer

i see in the backlit morning mist

by the side of the road

gazing wide eyed wonderingly at




(photo from Experience Life)

Poem of the day: Jane Hirshfield, Dog Tag, 1953

At last understanding
that everything my friend had been saying
for the thirty-three months since he knew
were words of the dog tag, words of, whatever else,
the milled and stamped-into metal of what stays behind.
Blackcap Mountain. Blue scorpion venom. Persimmon pudding.
He spoke them.
He could not say love enough times.
It clinked against itself, it clinked against its little chain.