I took a walk to find some air and found, instead,
a chill that lives in the marrow.
The sky was colorless,
lifeless: no bird, no insect, no visible sun or moving cloud.
Even the Monarch slept.
The earth, the land, the hills, the path
all void of bloom, muddy and soggy from winter.
The lake was frozen
though the mallards seemed to find a path.
“Keep moving,” I whispered to them.
“Just keep moving.
All this is fleeting. Keep moving.
Despite it all, find the stream that flows.”
Then, suddenly, as if they heard my supplication,
they turned toward me. One after another in a line
following the leader, they came ashore.
I sat awhile and watched them do what ducks tend to do.
The wind picked up, the chill thickened, and I thought,
I must forgive what was. I simply have too much to lose:
dignity, trust, my dreams, a sense of self,
faith, love, imagination,
joy, confidence,
God.
Then just as quickly as they came ashore,
They returned to the pond.
“Keep moving,” I whispered to them.
“Just keep moving.
All this is fleeting. Keep moving.
Despite it all, find the stream that flows.”
Forgiveness is like a stream in a winter pond. It finds a path through the ice. Keep moving forward toward goodness and love. Keep moving away from hurt, keep moving toward wholeness, so you can regain what you have lost. Let the pain be as fleeting as the winter chill. Let love and wholeness abide. Find the path through the ice. — Rabbi Karyn Kedar, The Bridge to Forgiveness: Stories and Prayers for finding God and Restoring Wholeness (2007), pgs. 21-22.
Nice poem for these times. How do we move forward through the ice? That do we do when the government wants to end the Endangered Species Act and continues to persecute refugees?