I want to walk the dusty road
with long-fought memory;
both pain and pleasure bending low
to make their peace with me.
I want to shake the hand of pain
declare instead a truce
abandon what was lost in shame
press forward into Truth.
For Truth is deeper than I knew
and Love has many names
Life can be wrapped in beauty while
still mixed with blood and pain.
What’s gone remains as close as thought
and never truly dies
the sweet and bitter mingle breath
with every aching sigh.
At table now with memory
I sit, and drink a toast
and arm in arm,
I with myself,