Unconditional Acceptance Poem by Keith Shorrocks Johnson

It is a fine autumn morning
In the riverside park
Backed by bush-clothed hills
At the start of the trail run.

The flats are green with long-mown grass
Specked with celandines, dandelions and daisies
And the trees curl leaves to the retreating
Northern sun - catching the best of the day.

There are oaks, sycamores and willows
And plantings from North America
Like the maple that is turning bronze
Mimicking its forbears in the Fall.

I talk directly and tersely to God
Offering a brusque thank you for it all.

I don't do obeisance and obedience anymore
We have come over the years to an understanding:

When I sit and then kneel
For a which art in heaven
Or thy kingdom come
I don't do reverence when I stand up

When I pay my dues
And burn a candle
For what I have lost
And for those I love

I stand back determinedly
Turning quickly on my heels
Walking away without regret -
After all we have come a long way together.

But I recite my prayer nonetheless:

Of those things that you forgive
But that I cannot forgive
Of those things that I forgive
But that I cannot forget
Of those things that others did
That rankle still
Of the things I think
But would rather have not come to mind
Of the ending already compromised
And the promise only part fulfilled
Of being sometimes without skin
And feeling the pain of others like my own
Of being neglectful and unthinking
Averting my eyes and shrinking back my hand.

Yet as the sun shines and the birds sing
I know that we both mean well.

Along the river bank, the path narrows
And there is a giant Macrocarpa Cypress
Massive and magnificent (its partner stumped)
Singled out now by a red-painted cross.

I go up and give it a hug
Turning away determinedly.
I don't do reverence anymore
Only unconditional acceptance.