When all you have is broken
And all you loved seems gone
Walk back to nature’s healing
Where human life was born.
Cool rivulets and rocky coves
The motion of moon tides
The swoop of sea birds in the place
Where sea and shore collide.
Walk on her perfect beaches
Feel sand between your toes
Look past the furthest reaches
Of all we’ll ever know.
We’ve come too far away from her
And somehow must return
Forgive and find our feet again
It’s not too late to learn.
From this stricken bridge, our pickled Lily
is a ragged and a snarling twig
stuck fast between grey stones.
Whilst all around
cross Eddies feud and weave,
she brooks her gall, suspended.
Who knows, should snagged forgiveness
truly rip and run again,
the river, reprieved, may turn to smile,
and Lily’s spoiled white lips
would twist and split: a pretty boat.
Her veil, pulled low to save that petalled face,
could raise into a hopeful sail
and pistilled spirit bend and dip
to fast row Lily, blemished but aglow,
to steep her days without bondage and regret
in turbulent regatta.