All the Good Heaven Can Bring

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There have been some few times this, my life, in
When, conscious of my near effect on they
Whom I’d recently helped some truth to win
Then comfortably wished me far away

Desiring not remember ’twas my gift,
My willingness open communion for
Allowed their spirits higher then to lift
Than they had capable been of before,

Preferring to pretend none other’s pray’r,
Warning, suggestion, even benefit
Of long exper’ience, helped to get them there
They were the start, middle, and end of it —

At such times, ’tis my habit to acquiesce
Their spoken or unspoken preference —
Rather by absence happiness them bless
Than summon up the truth of my defense

For whom it is the last thing wished to hear
(Much more convenient some otherwhere
While making me here guilty to appear)
The karma truly is their own to bear…

Ever doth the unusual take on
Reflexive blame for whatever we see
Broken, diseased, confused, misplaced or gone
From any home in which it happens be

So I depart, often taking false blame
Along the hardships with of traveling,
And future slurs upon my sinless name,
Wishing them all the good heaven can bring

The poet/editor of this website is physically disabled, and lives at a fraction of her nation’s poverty level. Contributions may be made at:

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Ana Daksina

About the Author: Ana Daksina

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