Forgiveness, you see, is the ultimate act of love.
Not love of another, with its many silhouettes,
but of your own self,
your body, your infinite mind and soul,
and your weary heart.
Letting go is not a setting down
of the burden,
or a release of the pain,
but rather an agreement with your ego
to consider love
not as something to receive
but as a gift to bestow upon your own self.
Forgiveness is not a single act,
it is not the end.
It is a peregrination into the desert of every day,
to find within the parched air and earth
a single drop of dew
Forgiveness, you see, is the ultimate act of grace.
It is charity without stipulation,
it is kindness without recompense.
It is a shaky unfurling of the clenched fist
and a quiet voice. It is the spark that drowns out the dense and uncertain fog.
It is the opposite of fear.
It is love,
yes it is,
in the truest and simplest form.