Your soul is worth more than your anger and your pain.
What heart is this that beats with rage enough to harm, to kill?
One gaze into a still pool reveals the sun over your shoulder
and transient clouds in a turquoise sky. Do you not see your face there
as much a part of it all? Unclench your fists, you fool.
It is not too late for you. Your healing comes in the closing
of your eyes, too tender from weeping.