CALENDARS

I keep changing the month’s pages,
expecting they will also transform
this life where I dwell
and let what lies in ruins
just fade and disappear.

Allow those ghosts
who visit in my head
to stop returning every night
with memories I want to forget.

Grant me breath to exhale
all the mistakes that haunt my day,
and arise to a future for my heart
where what I remember
is not a prison or hospital.

Then walk without despair
before the light of a new morn
with eyes not fixed in gazes upon the past,
able to write upon my calendar
in words alive in love and expectancy
every hope that I have lost
or left abandoned on the doorstep of my mind.

Have dreams again that died yesterday
make this a beginning
beyond the places I have been,
stripping away those old rags of thought
for a wardrobe that will dressed my soul
in joys I use to discard as worn out rags.