To err is human... Forgiveness can be the most impossible. How many wrongs can twist inside a heart to make it a victim? How many grudges must we carry, pulling us down like gravity? A life led in ordinariness attracts its fair share of hurt and trauma. But to dwell in the oil will only make the soul dark and heavy.
To forgive, then, is what we must do. Here lie letters sent to those who can be forgiven, composed in all honesty. But it's the forgetting which is the trickier part of healing. With a splattering of poetry to wash the wounds clean, these words hang like olive leaves on tough branches, soaked in blood from the scars that are still healing. Forgiving, though, of course, makes us divine.