Come to good

Poem by Dana Smith

I will not break a bruised reed.
I broke a bruised reed.

I did not come to own the world.
I tried to own the world.

I never blew out a sputtering candle
I extinguished the wavering wick.

I offered my sister a gentle hand.
I did not help my brother.

My enemy asked me to walk a mile with him. I walked two.
To my foe, I turned my back.

I forgave my friend seven times. And seven times again.
I judged my neighbour seventy times in as many years.

I let my life speak.
I stayed mute.

I was a place where the light broke through.
I never allowed the light to live in me, to linger.

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