Elizabeth Stamper
How can I return mercy
for lack of mercy
and kindness for what
appears to be unkind—
I must see this differently.
How can I think I am good
and you are guilty—as if
only I would know
what’s right and wrong—
I must see us differently.
How can I feel so unholy
and undeserving, yet reach for
a god of perfect love
hoping we are one?
I must see me differently.
How can I not forgive
and not give thanks
when your heart is always here
and holding out its hand?
I must see you differently.
I would return to peace—now—
this very minute—
giving up my point of view,
my practiced pain,
my innocent face—
for none of that is worth
the cost of freedom
and the sacrifice of grace.
I would release this ancient blindness
and return to you, return to me,
return to peace . . .
right now.