It's about me saying sorry when

we both know it was really your fault;

then getting my grudge exorcised

quickly before sepsis sets in.

It's about being misunderstood or misrepresented

yet neither caring nor blaming anyone.

It's when I feel sorry for you because

what you want is to hurt or provoke me.

It's about putting all my cards on the table,

giving you all my aces;

then rejoicing with you

when you beat me.

It's about me giving, and giving more

but not feeling good or proud for this

or blaming someone else

for their doubts, fears or inexperience.

Instead of avoiding those who are hurt or in trouble

especially when it is their own fault

it is seeking them out, offering

the balm of acceptance.

It is finding out that it's really not

what you know but who you know

meeting the chap who goes to parties and changes

all our water into wine.

It is inviting him into

our little miseries and

finding new life within

each of our little deaths.

It is discovering healing in the midst of sickness

unity and love in the midst of war

riches in the midst of poverty;

the river that washes away the tears-

and wanting to sing about it.