remOrse

“The skeletons of the past must not hold back the dream of a new life, even
though fear and regret, guilt and remorse may unsettle us during the effort to
give our future a new home.”—Erik Pevernagie

                              i have no time to stop and count
                    the number of the wrongs,
          or measure the intensity
of all the harm i’ve caused;
                              to test how high i’ve placed myself
                    above the needs of throngs,
          or fathom depths i’ve stooped to hurt
poor men whose steps i’ve paused.

                              this hour is mine:  this minute, now,
                    to remedy ills done,
          peculiar to my selfish ends,
injurious to lost souls.
                              swift agency falls upon me
                    to drink light, ere the sun
          into the bosom of dark earth
its finished circuit rolls.

                              bright prospects of new birth are mine:
                    o how umbilical,
          the cords that woo my trembling heart
to melt into a song
                              of penitential reverence,
                    whose philological
          abasement seeks to rectify
my conscience of all wrong!

                    © Copyright 2024 September 24
                              by Clyve A. Bowen♫