WHERE THE WATER TOOK IT

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The river didn’t ask   
what I was rinsing off~  
it just moved,  
warm and carefree,  
around my wrists.  

I knelt there long enough  
for the current to forget  
the shape of my hands,  
for the silt to swallow  
whatever slipped from my fingers.  

And when I stood,  
dripping and empty,  
the sun didn’t hiss sinner~  
it just dried me,  
quiet as a pardon.  

Now I walk lighter,  
puzzled by the lack of weight.  

Where is my guilt? Where is my shame? 
The answer’s simple:  
Confessed~
Gone downstream,  
turned into stones,  
into minnows,  
into nothing.

meaningfulspiritualfree verse

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