What is – Forgiveness

The bow before Lent,
the words whispered, again and again,
against white scratchy cheek,
against shaky soft wrinkles,
against the cushion of thin air
between I and the boy, church virgin,
wandered in from the cold
and invited into our circle.

The hug that encircles our world:
father and wide-eyed toddler,
baby and eager new mother,
God and I and you
and the burdens we dragged
through the old wooden doors,
God and I and you
and the memories we lay down
in the meaningful look
before we wrap each other close.

The still breath in the storm,
the gift offered like a key
to the one trapped in her castle of fear.

The kneel in the dark church
in the first clean breath of Lent,
the words given and taken.

The enduring of slander,
the truth spoken firmly,
the racing heart
as we gather to name
what is broken
and plea for a change.
The call to repentance,
the boundary held
that strengthens the hug,
the wall of protection,
the casting out
that they be not consumed,
and the call to return.

All this too
comes into the fold
of God and I and you.