Reconciliation Way

There’s a way of looking past the past,
Where every last detail of every wrong word
Uttered, every deed done
Flutters around my synapses, breeding
Self-loathing, flapping its wings through the wrongs until the present
Presents evidence of the butterfly effect
Where history can be changed from thousands of caterpillars feeding off hate until stuffed,
exhausted, they hang cocooned in sack cloth and ashes,
Rising to discard such hatred of silence into a future when millions of butterflies render colored streets beautiful again,
Render even green, a color to be remembered.