Forgiveness = Beatitude Poem by Nika McGuin

If forgiveness were an object,
it would be the smooth edge
of a melting ice cube.
It would be the centermost petals
of a tiny yellow blossom
just beginning to unfold -
Still no, it is more likened
to the moral of a fairytale
that is now done being told.

But forgiveness isn't an object at all.
It's a feeling, like the kind one gets
seeing dandelion seeds afloat on the wind.
It is as knowing and as calm as a sad smile
from a friend. It is where burning rage
meets its end and peacefulness may at once
begin. Always, forgiveness is deftly joined at the hip
with a marvelous thing, called: Beatitude.