*
Forgiveness is like the yellow suddenness
inside green leaves, not placed on top
but inside, welling out from the core
of that distant tree, a substance not
an attribute, not hanging like some ornament,
more truly what the live tree hangs upon,
available yet hidden, a primary
color so easily blended in the soot
of my own evaluations: "that tree
is blocking the sun from me".
I wish I could hold what it contains, I would like
this brightness to cover me, no not cover me
but issue from me -- so that I might be
forgiven, as the leaves are, effortlessly.
*
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