Poem: Release the Past

Release the past—
let it fall from your shoulders
like a winter coat
at the door of a warming house.

You have carried it long enough:
the words you replay at midnight,
the doors that closed without warning,
the versions of you
that did not survive.

Lay them down gently.
They were teachers,
not life sentences.

The river does not argue with its source.
It does not turn back
to gather the same water twice.
It moves—
because moving is its nature.

Forgive the ground
for being uneven.
Forgive yourself
for stumbling there.

The past is a photograph—
honor it,
but do not try to live inside its frame.

Open the windows of your chest.
Let fresh air
rename the rooms.

You are not what broke you.
You are what mended,
what learned the shape of light
through cracks in the dark.

Release the past—
not because it did not matter,
but because
you do.

And the horizon
is still waiting.

Thank-you for reading,

Brenda Marie