Forgiveness is the melted snow,
which, melted, simply goes
away with shattered ice.
Forgiveness is the never yet
forgotten home, the low wall,
the squeaking stairs, the dome
with sparrows high above.
Forgiveness is the pain of birthing child,
the sleepless nights, the silver tears.
Suppressed forgetfulness which
stays forever in the slow-beating heart -
- is not forgiveness. It starts
exactly at the end of life,
when you forgiveness want.
You see the ever-growing tree,
some branches dry and broken?
It brings so much forgetfulness to thee,
it's not forgiveness. Do not fret
for only God forgives, and you forget.

by Genya Ehrlich

Other poems of GENYA EHRLICH (2)

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