Fruitful Rage

 

A Face in the Moon, Puçol (València, Spain), August 2020

When love is over, rage caused by pain
gives wide berth to resentment:
the uneasiness of solitude
–both new and old, forced–
will sour your eyes,
will muddy your days.

When resentment is over, reproach
is swiftly approaching your space:
reproach for what’s been done,
reproach for what’s been perceived.

And for the sake of the love that was,
and that –you know– won’t ever be back,
you let your fond memories
finally extinguish the embers
of rage, of resentment, of reproach.

When resentment is over,
at its time, never before,
a fruitful field opens up
for you to sow the seeds
of the new love that is
just about to arise.


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