Remorse
©December 26th, 2015
By Vijaya Sundaram
There are times
When silence is best,
When she needn’t
Have spoken the words
That hurt, and hurt again.
Wishing she could seize
Barbed moments, when words
Cut into someone’s soul, she tries
To push against the wheel of time
To set it back to the place
Before the words emerged
That hurt.
Wishing she could take back
All those words, true or not,
Pull out those burrs, those thorns,
Salve all those small, bleeding
Cuts with love, with soft,
Soft unguents and soothing
Poultices, and make
The hurt vanish as though
It had never been, she holds
Her guilt lightly cupped in mind;
Too much of it would choke her.
Memory, though, makes a hell
For her words were
Aggressions, micro or macro.
Conscience is a cross.
Still, she would rather bear it,
Than walk on a road
That leads to no remorse.
Done cannot be undone.
And that which comes from it,
Might teach.
She would love so much to learn.
Hold your guilt lightly
She says to herself.
Do not let it spill,
But carry it, carry it
Everywhere.
