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For breaking the altar of my heart, As the time passes, I shall pick up all but the smallest pieces And repair them with the sacrifices of love. I can forgive you For defacing the icons of my life. From the easel of days And brush stokes of sanity I shall repaint these peeling images. I can forgive you For ripping down the pillars of pride, For they supported only the weak timbers of arrogance, As they themselves were useless towers of ivory. I can forgive you For extinguishing the midnight lamp That burned for all to see. And guided me throughout the echoing transepts of loneliness, For I shall find a new light. I can forgive you For defiling the tombs of my past, Wandering amidst the catacombs of my mind Where all my sacred thoughts lay undisturbed. I can forgive you For casting down the words that were mine, And scattering them to the swine like rotten corn, Desecrating with derision the sacraments of dignity In which I clothed you. I can forgive you For laying waste this home, my temple, For I can still dream. From the mortar of hope and the bricks of dreams, I shall rebuild this ruined place. I can forgive all these things, Love asks for nothing, But what I cannot forgive, is that you drank from the chalice That held my soul and left it empty. Alas, no doubt it will be refilled, By the one who quenched the thirst of living From the waters of life. © A E Orchard - April 1997 |
Webpage © Alison Orchard Hammill - February 2002
With thanks to Bradley W Schenck for the Celtic background