Goodness
isn’t a lofty goal
or perfection.
It doesn’t come from a counter-top well cleaned or
a cake well baked.
It isn’t in a corner office
or in a church pew.
It isn’t eloquence or poetry or a book well written.
It isn’t art or beauty or music or light.
Goodness
isn’t God bless you after a sneeze
or I’ll pray for you before a trial.
It isn’t a feeling, a hug,
an ideal that speaks to all the ways
we can perfect ourselves
by ourselves.
Goodness Knows.
Goodness knows every failed attempt.
Every white lie,
(yellow lie, green lie, indigo lie.
Every flaming
red lie.)
It hears every raised voice and sees every
clenched fist.
It knows the anger of my pounding heart.
Goodness knows every intention not met,
every moment spent looking away.
It knows the
the height of my successes,
the depth of my failings.
Goodness knows.
And it doesn’t hold hands.
It molds hearts.
It isn’t being best.
It is being broken.
It is silence and darkness and the end before the beginning.
It is the moment in human history,
in
My
history
that shames me to my knees.
It is every broken moment of
my broken life.
My whole life,
Loved.
Goodness knows,
even me.
Unto death.
The Frozen Moon 
Your writing…it is so beautiful. I love every word of it. You should be professionally published, you would warm so many hearts. Thank you so much for writing such beautiful work. I hope your night is as beautiful as your soul! Tata!
Thank you, Alicia. You are too kind. I do have some works floating around out there in the published world, you can find my fiction work here. But I haven’t yet done non-fiction or personal essays. Perhaps in the future. Thank you for your encouragement. 😉