Getting It Right

in the hum and hubbub
of my work
thoughts and prayers
arise
slowly
as if in amber --

they pause

and harden
into moments;
they look at me
until i look back.

Today, a seared and scoured
memory of lost love --
ancient history
for which i
have not
forgiven myself --
arose.

Not like amber, though;
it was regurgitated
at the shore
of my consciousness
and announced by
the crashing wave
that delivered it.

this nettled gasp
of understanding
stuck in my chest:

i had hurt someone
because
i was afraid
of not "getting it right"

and then ashamed
of getting it wrong.

Was i so new to being fallible,
that my shame should
burn this brightly?

Was i protecting
a spiritual no-hitter
into the late innings?

Sadly, no.

My fear
is the swimmer's
solemn dread
of the open ocean,

the pilot's resolve
as his craft rises to meet
the rowdy Spring sky,

and the mountain goat's
grudging respect
for the cliff.

All will eventually fall.

And i,
will i one day,
having fallen from grace
yet again,
learn to
fall with the grace
of forgiveness of self?

It is,
after all,
the only path to
Getting It Right.

--Mr. Gobley