Wednesday, April 22, 2009

NaPoWriMo #21

Rites of passage

Each time when  your open wounds hurt from the pain of my crumbling spine, you forgave me.
Your forgiveness heals me. And I am healing in my children and my children's children.
Someday a city will fill with the love of your forgiveness.

more writes of passage here.

2 comments:

Paul said...

That is a beautiful redemption poem.

Ana said...

Thank you Paul.