Torn Petals are More Fragrant

I’ve made my peace with it

The straining, striving,
Late-night driving, early morning hours
Of toil and turmoil

Fighting to love stone statues
Turned inside-out, trusting
The ones thrusting you through
From behind, turning you
Inside-out too.

Fighting to avoid becoming
Everything it turns out
You always were.

Forgetting to remember,
Remembering what you try to forget,
Forgetting whether you’re doing either right

Until all life becomes
Dingy strings in knots
Tied ’round every finger:
Lost causes.

I’ve made my peace with Jude,
With Rita of Cascia,
And they have found peace with me.