May

No sooner had I 

forgiven

the voracious deer

than incontinent rabbits

ate my petunias.

Must I absolve them too?

Well, yes,

not for their sake

but for mine.

When I forgive everyone

for all,

I see both heaven and earth

as one explosion of

golden chaos ever dissolving

into joy.

All our imperfections

taste like honeysuckle 

clambering over a ruined fence

above the scarlet poppies.

We are drenched with so much light

that each of us appears

as the Beloved.

Every moment, 

we leave one garden

and enter another. 

Yet we're always kneeling 

here, with Mary, 

gazing into the face 

of Jesus,

smelling earth 

on his fingers.