by Terri Martin Wilkins

Derelict memories too fragile to touch
Rumors of what was
Or only what might have been
Perhaps only something like
Perhaps only close enough
Only what can be glimpsed with love-dazzled eyes.

The unbearable price of wisdom
Exchanged for far too many aching splinters of time.
Perilous seductive allure of unity broken
Melting into cold regret,
That relentless assassin of remembrance,
Leaving static joys behind
In the implacable solidity of the past.

Joy creeps stealthily out the back.
A requiem of resignation
Creates a hollow substitute symphony of serenity
That forlornly animates the present.
Vestiges of untethered years
No longer inform divergent paths
Divided by the fierce fringes of irrelevance.

Ever puzzling over the unanswerable question -
    Is it a mercy to remember,
    	Or to forget?

The bleeding sound of piercing memory
The muddy taste of sorrow in obscured images
The colors of time and loss purling through desolate angles.

Pain eternally surprising.
Mercy crashing through assumptions.
Extraordinary grace over it all.

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Terri Martin Wilkins is a follower of Jesus Christ, often failing but always relying on grace. She writes to express lament, praise, and the often-difficult struggle to trust God in all things. Her works have previously been published by the Heart of Flesh Literary Journal, Red Letter Christians, and Agape Review.