For All I Have Failed To Be

You might not remember; it was so long ago. Our memories devise tricks to flush away pain. But I walk here in the alleys of remorse During the darkening final days of the year. I seek to atone for my neglect, all my plunder. Our life was torn asunder; all my hollow thunder. I hunger now for any light; it is true. But I taste your ghostly wounds in the night stew. Some of my stages of shame perpetually replay. No amends, no expression of regret relieves them. Hedonism never realized its promise of pleasure, A sugarcoated cereal deadening life’s flavor. Roaming alone through twisting backstreets. Survival crawled by irritable, temperamental, impersonal, My sharp edges and dim wit drove me out of bounds. I was a delinquent turned out at all the sanctuaries. I lay in exhaustion, my head in my arms. Something pealed, yes, some sort of carillon Again, again, chiming, crystal tones climbing. Notre Dame, Westminster Abby, A chorus of cathedral bells tolling, extolling Clear harmonies rolling, springing, showering, Towering, overpowering, a new belonging, A new donging, a new righting of wrongs. Here, spontaneous essence self-assembles, Deepest being chiming, dinging in time, The flood and flurry of bells rain down on me. I can never repair my failed fragments Returning like a tiresome uncle. But perhaps I can thrive, fully alive. Ringing and pinging, singing of my new self. For all I have failed to be, I celebrate my outpouring of love, my season of rapture.