-- A KIND OF FORGETFULNESS --

By John Herlihy

Great suffering is the result of pain,

That will befall us without invitation.

We inflict on ourselves without gain,

Elemental, deep, whatever our station.

Great evil is the absence of any good,

That greets but we wish to walk away.

Our freedom a gift for what we would,

Our punishment has its own true way.

We will build a fire to warm ourselves,

Then complain the flames are too hot.

We may sit there like contented elves,

Our eyes blinded with stinging smoke.

Great sin a sure kind of forgetfulness,

Of truths that we no longer remember.

We wander far from any faithfulness,

Living the good life only as pretender.

But sin is also a kind of remembering,

We believe in the vital force of choice.

That in falling we have room for rising,

Offer up the self as a prelude to rejoice.

Stark questions not answered by words,

They rise up in us from some deep well.

If you want to know, then ask the birds.

They will say more than anyone can tell.

Songbirds need not remember or forget;

They live freely, do not partake of regret.

We can do no wrong in mimicking them;

Follow their instincts of where and when.

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(c) John Herlihy 12 February 2019