Whatever harm I may have done
In all my life in all your wide creation
If I cannot repair it, I beg you to repair it.
And then there are all the wounded
the poor the deaf the lonely and the old
Whom I have roughly dismissed
As if I were not one of them.
Where I have wronged them by it
And I cannot make amends
I ask you To comfort them to overflowing,
And where there are lives I may have withered around me,
or lives of strangers far or near
That I've destroyed in blind complicity,
And if I cannot find them
Or have no way to serve them,
Remember them. I beg you to remember them
When winter is over
And all your unimaginable promises
Burst into song on death's bare branches.
Anne Porter
It feels like the winter that never ends! The last snow of the season came in February, around President's Day. Thankfully, spring was right around the corner!
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