Forgiveness

Forgiveness Echoing through double doors into this red brick temple. a figure stood waiting still, calm and gentle In the middle, I sat down, there he knelt in silence, staring down his white gown, still, hushed and patient. He saw into my heart blood spilled from my wounds. He raised his hands apart. Bursting from their cocoons the grief and pain I dealt with, becomes something worthwhile. That’s when I learnt to forgive, butterflies released denial then travelled warm miles. Stepping into church like many sundays before, the colouring is different opening all my doors. Mixed tropical skies soaking auras of love, I saw many butterflies fluttering high above. Victoria Curtis 2008