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as the forest receded like the tide,

a vast, deep quarry welcomed the wanderer.

"Who let's his face

be revealed from the forest?"

i am a wanderer.

i want to leave my homeland.

"You speak the words

of so many before you.

What is is that you carry?"

i am carrying stones

from the quarry, from you.

i was told that in order

to cross your bridge

that leads to the bigger world,

i must give back what was taken from you.

"Wanderer, you have been given

foul information.

You must give back

what you have held on to for too long.

There is a reason I remain hollow

and no one has crossed my bridge."

why has no one crossed your bridge?

"You carry those stones

much like you carry anger, resentment,

jealousy, and narrow-mindedness

for those who have hurt you

in your past---

those who continue to hurt you now---

in your present.

If you wish to see the bigger world,

my fair wanderer,

you must do one thing."

what must i do?

"You must forgive each stone you carry

and throw them back into my depths

in order to cross my bridge."

the wanderer looked at his stones.

"Do not forgive,

and your stones will bare a heavier weight

with each passing year

until they will be too heavy to travel with.

Choose to forgive,

and a greater world awaits you."

the wanderer continued

to contemplate his decision.

"No other wanderer

has crossed my bridge

because pain is familiar to us;

pain makes us feel safe---

much like the security of our homeland.

Forgiveness introduces us

to the unknown---

the unfamiliar---

to a feeling we fear to know fully..."

a single corner on the mouth

of the wanderer bent upward.

he walked to the edge of the quarry,

peered down at the emptiness,

and took out a stone.

he looked at the stone and said,

i forgive you.

he leaned back---stepped forward---

and launched the stone into suspension

before gravity slung its rope

and pulled the heavy stone

to its plunging death

in the murky, green pool.

several more stones shattered

the water's surface

until the wanderer was empty-handed.

the sudden feeling of feather-footedness

made the wanderer skip

across the quarry's bridge with joy.

once on the fetal ground,

the wanderer turned back to face the quarry and said,

"...to freedom".

:::

when the wind has stopped moving

outside of myself,

i have learned to look inward

at the love

that has ceased to move

within me.

:::

peace

is pain forgiven.

:::

don't we all try

to keep our loneliness

kept frozen

like an ice cube?

we fear,

should we melt

by the heat of our vulnerability,

others will see the water stain.

:::

*please note: do not read this poem

unless spoken aloud.

i brand this as my mantra today:

"i am here.

i am well.

i am gifted

another day."

:::

recently,

i made the mistake of declaring

that i "deserve" love.

love is not a right!

love is not a reward!

love is not separate!

love is not a chore!

love is outside of conditions.

we are love!

no boundaries. no gimmicks.

no need to ask,

"so what's the catch?"