I Dreamed I Saw St Augustine

If you will let people be wrong,
most of whatever love is
may begin. Justice will hang
all of us yet. Waft mercies
the guilty may walk on when
truth grows absolute. The trees
from which we shall dangle then
are everywhere. And since
not all trees can be cut,
all men may hang. But once
let love in, mercy out, ah, then
a bird song may defend us,
a mote — can you dream it? — heal!

poem:john ciardi

photo: A rainy day – Oct. 6th by jimmyboca2001