CALM WATERS

At mid-life, aware of the many ways

we have failed ourselves and each other,

we find words of apology, ask forgiveness

for our lack of wholeness.

But, when we are older and wiser,
once we have healed,

have come to terms with what was, understood

why we did the things we did,
out of our ignorance

and pain and lack of self-worth -

after we have learned to apply compassion

to ourselves, as well as those who hurt us

out of their own inadequacies -

we surrender to all that cannot be re-lived or remedied.

Words spoken out loud are measured, now; silence

is our friend, as we watch the cacophony of life

all around, become the observer, reserve judgment.

We may wish to dream back all we have lost,

but we keep living forward, farther and farther

from those old heartbreaks. Sorrow has taken root

in our hearts, tears we did not know how to shed

back then flow easily, over every small thing.

We now understand our grandparents' tender hearts,

now living in our own chests.
(Too late smart, my father said,
with his wry grin.)

Too late to do it all again, only better.

Too late to say I'm sorry I knew so little
for such a long time.

We are floating on a surrendering tide,

that is drawing us inevitably
out to sea.

The boat I sailed through stormy waters

is battered now, and drifting,

grateful to have reached
calm waters.