by Abraham de la Torre
That friendship is a fact does not preclude
that truth will either set one free or hurt.
It happened that the heart, an open field,
devoid of hate, did not discriminate
and welcomed fellow wanderers of earth.
It was a plain encounter oft recurred
with proximity and kindred subjects
art induced for mutual benefit.
Creation, being biblical, betides
beginnings rife with possibilities.
The road was paved with bright imaginings
and traveled like a path well worn with prints
of life. Conversations drifted freely
between houses and exchanges of soul
bared. Because anointed with the blessing
that seemed, because beautiful, God-ordained.
And the journey took the twain from simple
carefree outings to problem-solving meals
that, heretofore unplumbed, became severe
reflections. Even forgiveness borrowed.
It started from a loss admitted and
dismissed as emanating from a past
not quite detached from what might be perceived
as fault. The verdict is of guilt, as right
as rain. There is no going back to when
the need to bleed the breast was never dim.
The past is not a signpost for nothing
and the last ushered the new testament.
