I'm dreaming of redemption,
not denial, not agony,
not
lies told or
amorphous deceptions
amorphously defended,
but redemption.
Redemption for all concerned,
with a decent concern for all,
with feelings felt and not denied,
weights weighed, and not
forgotten,
needs of flesh, nerves, guts and mind
all
remembered, and workably in place
with neither lies nor torture.
I'm dreaming of redemption,
where all concerned
can know
the same stories,
and live with that,
and look back and go
on comfortably,
not unreasonably proud,
or unreasonably
ashamed,
in ways that work
in private and in public.
I'm dreaming of redemption,
for myself, for the evil I've
done,
and the good I've tried to do and failed,
and the
limits and narrownesses that are
unchangeably a part of me.
And I'm dreaming of redemption for others,
in similar ways,
without pretense,
with real, vital, feeling futures
not
closed off.
There is too much good here,
too much reaching for the good,
too much hard, disciplined work
in the face of pain and
fear,
too much to hope for.
Too much to hope for the world, too,
too much hope for primal
needs of peace,
too much of interest,
too much condensed and
seeming right,
too much, from too many, that seems good,
and
moves me and others.
No checkmate. No closing off of hope,
no wallowing in agonies
that might be,
with more wisdom, and clean negotiation,
assuaged and replaced
by honest joy and comfort.
No checkmate. I'm dreaming of redemption,
and a world that
goes on, safer and richer,
and knowing more about redemption,
because we've struggled.