Small Translations

Regret is my gift to my own tomorrow
not the judge and jury of my past.

Patience is the travel compression socks
I wear to be able to walk off
whatever I have been stuck on
after a long journey,

not someone’s else’s
dangerously smiling offer –
to me or my people
or anyone truly vulnerable —
of so-called blessed ties
that bind.

Faith can’t be proven,
hope only exists where there is hurting,
love starts out lonely,
may get lucky,
is always willing to be lonely again.

In the beginning, the Word
has always been
about flipping definitions.

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4 Responses to Small Translations

  1. Jessica McArdle says:

    Maren, your blog has often spoken (or gently whispered) words of hope and this morning’s offering is no exception. Thank you for this and other “gifts” that have lifted mine and others flagging spirits.

  2. revlmftblog1 says:

    Poignancy. I’ve heard things like this in many a 12 step meeting.

  3. Maren says:

    Ah, that is my home place. I’m honored by the comparison.

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