My memories trample. My conscience awakes.
It's then I'm reminded of all my mistakes.
Regrets, I have many. They give me great pain.
They pelt me like hail and they drive me insane.
If only the future could remake the past,
where I could relive it much diff'rent than cast -
in stone where it's buried and cannot breakout,
I'd free it most quickly and change it, no doubt.
For pain's overwhelming when past can't reverse.
From pit in my stomach, it couldn't be worse.
Though Jesus can heal all the greatest of pains -
He won't let it happen if I'm locked with chains
in guilt-ridden prison where I can't accept
forgiveness from actions when I was inept.
Grace breaks ev'ry chain so that I can't destroy
this beautiful rose of unspeakable joy.
If God could change hist'ry, if God made it so,
I'd treat her much diff'rent and clearly would know
that God's grace is priceless and made for such love
for all still in waiting and not there above.
Because she's not with me, there isn't a cure,
so pain grows beyond all that I can endure.
I'm sorry I hurt you and this I must share -
while Heaven awaits you, you're in ev'ry prayer.
So love still continues to bloom like the rose -
for roses are lovely as everyone knows.
My heart strings keep humming like strumming guitar.
She's perfect as nature and finer by far -
than rose most exquisite, than rose without thorn,
than crisp, cooling air near a lake in the morn,
than cottony clouds floating high with great ease,
than soft meadow grasses. She is more than these.
This poem won second place for the July 2018 poetry contest