When will we let go?

When will we let go
of our fascination with winter,
with what is not;
with what is wrong?

When will we cease
to line up our grievances
like ducks in a shooting gallery,
picking them off
one by one
with our angry words and phrases
when all the time we know
they're designed
to spring back?


When will we finally come
to fully understand
that God and love
are both real
and enough?


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