The flaws in
our family life
Are like pulled carpet threads
Overlooked in their familiarity
Still part of a colorful tapestry
The truth in
our stories
Seeks a home of forgiveness
Sheltering arms to have and to hold
Where failure and judgment do not share a bed
The
realities we create
Are tested against each other
We come undone, then together
Open wounds and open arms
The bones of
our fathers
Lie in sacred ground
Ensouled by voices that speak to us
Only in our dreams
Rivers flow
with random questions
As we seek to reclaim a past that is ours
Almost lost under the gaze
Of ancient and knowing trees
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