There was some ease, an untangling,
Dissipation . . . a relaxing.
Brought by words, spoken with feeling.
Feeling can be quite revealing.
Revealing how I was aggrieved,
Perhaps slighted, but now believe,
My grievance was self-imposed.
Holding my fondness in repose.
I was wrong. I see it now.
This all brings it home somehow.
A calmer place and pleasing ways.
The dulcet rhythm of its sways.
I recall a prior tension.
Hesitant at the mere mention.
Different, yet this time around,
It’s different, in how it is found.
It’s found when ire’s creeping in.
It’s found before havoc begins.
And takes its hold on fear and doubt.
And gives contempt another bout.
Before. That seems to be the key.
Before, not after’s when I see.
I see it once, I’ll see again.
The onset of what brings the pain.
It’s when the flow is but a drip.
Which can be played, or maybe flipped.
And transformed to something good,
Or just observed and understood.
Cross the river at the source,
But if not, allow due course.
Allow it to come to being,
Instead of rage from heady seeing.
From fantasy that makes me red,
To just allowing it instead.
It might be diff-erent this time,
But if not, I’ll still be fine.
This is what I learned just then.
Now, to be a better friend.
© 2022 TheRememberings Ltd.