Over Time

In the beginning
there is a living room
whose tiles smell of Pine-Sol
Lemon Fresh
a mother running around:
a worker bee
making sure it's all perfect
and two children
sitting on a battered old couch
waiting on the routine:
a stretch and a groan
to announce his arrival
It finally comes
an epic yawn from down the hall
bellows like the roar of some worn out bear
"Dad's home!"
the children giggle and race down the hall
throw themselves into his arms

That was in the beginning
when a father juggled lemons
grinned wide from ear to ear
a jovial clown
who drew a laugh from his crowd
and a mother scolded
"You'll bruise all the fruit!"
while she laughed

In time 
a mother ceased to laugh
instead she cried
behind the bathroom door
and a father
whose absence echoed down the halls
a jovial clown
packed his lemons
and bowed to the crowd
A mother said
"It's not your fault"
but the Lemon Fresh
went down the drain
like the relationship
between two people
who were trying to stay sane

Two children
wandered through a hazy fog
until one day it became clear
that a mother could stretch and groan:
fill the silence in the halls
and juggle
the laughter
the tears
the pain and the fear
just as well as a father
who disappeared

That day I knew
that I can't always flinch when I think of you
that I must look to myself for guidance
and that sometimes I must fill the silence
that I must replace the hate in my heart with love
because it's better to forgive and forget
than to share my life with pain and regret