To Forgive

To forgive you is a sinkhole

of quicksand that I am helpless to

disappearing into.

The more I struggle,

suffocating in the gravity of it all

against the incomparable strength and pressure

that folds around me as things go dark once again.

Like a natural current washing me back on your shores

no matter how I strain my arms to paddle

the wind works against me

as though the weather is always wrong.

To forgive you is a reflex,

catching the egg as it rolls off the counter

tenderly, gently in my palm.

With the power to break it

but unable.

To forgive you is to place it back in the carton

and forfeit my meal.

Leaving the house without an umbrella

not checking the forecast and leaving it all to chance.

Submitting to what the forces beyond myself will bring.

But again, the weather...

To forgive you is a live trap I release the latch on yet again

knowing two more of my chickens

will go missing this evening.

But everyone has to eat.

To forgive you is my tongue out catching snowflakes,

head tipped back, eyes closed, throat exposed.

Unknowing if I am getting anything.

But it's all the same either way

for I will never know.

I will always posture myself this way

that makes it the easiest to trust.

In the the physics.

Your hunger.

My weakness.

The weather.

My thirst.