Reborn

If I don’t look back
it may be possible
to fall in love again
at the end of the world,
at the edge of what we know
of this world.

By then I may be speaking to myself
and be able to forgive myself
for ignoring the things that matter—
for living a life just short of happiness,
where open secrets cloud common sense,
the deception of truth,
keeping a distance between me
and my beautiful hurting heart.

The next time around
I will make no excuses
for loving what is right
about laughter and the blue
of forget-me-nots.

The promise of friendship
will be the marriage of souls
I’ll celebrate in white.

Words will honor actions
and actions will bow down
to the music of words.

This necessary guilt
who walks arrogantly beside me
like some global villager
will disappear in the spring
like a snow angel
lovingly released
from her place on earth,

She will be forgiven.
She will be reborn as innocence.
She will be love.